The Tower in the Woods
by Mazkeraide
Summary: The last thing Prince Chuck and his men expected to find while hunting was a princess in a tower. But are Princess Elise's motives as pure as they seem? Written for FaylinnNorse for the ACA Ficathon 2011.
1. Chapter 1

I had only been in the tower for a year or so— just long enough to become comfortable with the solitude and begin appreciating it— when the men came.

I heard their voices hours before I saw them, of course. Four men, one clearly in charge of the others, and a pack of dogs that indicated they were a small hunting party. When I sighted them from my window I could see the crests they bore on their shields, marking them as noble. I couldn't resist a smile. Noblemen were exactly what I needed.

The leader, a stout, red-headed man with a loud bellow of a laugh, spotted the tower first. Despite his comrades' protests, he insisted on exploring it. I prepared myself, setting the stage I had long planned should this day ever come: quietly embroidering by the fire, oblivious to the world around me. I would be as surprised as they when I saw them, a helpless, lonely maiden trapped by an evil curse in a tower far from home. The leader, I knew, would believe me in an instant; he was the sort to crave an adventure like those in tales. A maiden in a tower would be irresistible to a man such as he.

Only a few moments later I heard the door creak open. I could hear surprise in their voices at how easily it opened— surprise and worry, on the part of one of the men. He wondered what sort of evil could inhabit this tower, but the leader merely laughed.

"There's no evil I and my three best knights can't handle," he said. I repressed a smile.

The worried knight insisted on leading the way up the stairs, though the leader mocked him for it. I heard swords drawn, echoing in the stairwell, and the slow clunking plod of armor-shod feet on the stone stairs. I schooled my face into a bland expression of concentration. I was a lady, after all, and therefore quite engrossed by activities such as embroidery. Men such as these, particularly men such as the leader of this group, would dismiss my inattention as appealing focus on womanly tasks.

The sharp intake of breath behind me caused me to jump out of my chair, startled. "Who...who are you?" I asked, my voice breathy with fear.

The dark-haired man in front regarded me suspiciously, his grey eyes seeing through my act, but the leader pushed his way to the front and bowed low.

"My lady," he said, "I am Prince Charles of Ineria, known to my closest friends as Chuck. I saw your tower in the wood, and a voice within me told me I would find something precious within, but never could I have imagined the precious something would be you."

I curtsied gracefully, seemingly pleased with his flattery and lofty mannerisms, but I was thinking, _Chuck? What sort of prince is named Chuck?_

"I thank you for your kind words, my lord," I said, keeping my voice soft and ladylike. "My name is Elise, and I have been locked in this tower for nearly three years. I was beginning to think I would never be rescued."

"How did you end up in this tower, my lady, if you don't mind my asking?" asked the grey-eyed knight.

I opened my mouth to reply, but Chuck cut me off. "You must forgive Laurence; he has a most suspicious mind. He would suspect even the birds in the trees of conspiring to murder me."

The knight flashed a tightlipped grin. "It is my duty to protect you, sire. Surely you cannot protest my doing my job."

"I don't think it's your performance he's protesting, Laur," said another of the knights, a blond man with a friendly expression. "I think he protests that you do it too thoroughly."

Laurence frowned, but said no more.

"I would answer his question, my lord, if you would have it so," I said softly. When Chuck motioned for me to proceed, I did: "Three years ago, I was stolen from my castle and brought here, to a land far from home. I was closed in the tower, lost in a foreign woods, unable to go for help, until the day I was rescued. Which has, it appears, come at last."

My story woke a light in Chuck's eyes; this was exactly the manner of story he had been hoping to hear. "Who has done such a horrible thing to you, fairest lady Elise?"

"More importantly, why?" Laurence muttered under his breath before the blond knight elbowed him.

"I'm afraid I don't know," I replied with a stricken look. "I can think of no witch, sorcerer, or fairy who would hold such a grudge against me or my family. I was taken in the night, while I was sleeping, and therefore was unable to see the face of my attacker. I wish I could tell you more."

Chuck, his blond-haired knight, and his fourth companion, a tall, lean fellow with mousy brown curls and without a chin, believed me completely, but I could still see doubt in Laurence's eyes. I dismissed him for the moment. There would be plenty of time to convince him later.

Chuck ordered the mousy-haired knight to help me pack my small trunk, despite my protests.

"A lady as fair as you should never be required to do her own work," he said. "Thomas will have to do as well as a lady's maid for the moment."

I flashed him an apologetic smile, but he merely shrugged.

"It's not the oddest order he's ever given," he said. "He insists we call him Chuck, for example."

I took the opportunity to satisfy my curiosity, "Why _does_ he go by Chuck?"

"We were riding through a village one day when a couple of young boys ran into our path. We almost ran them over, and Chuck insisted on getting to know his citizens as part of his penance. One of the boys said he was named after the prince, but his friends called him Chuck because Charles was far too fine a name for a baker's son. The prince thought it quite hilarious and decided we should all refer to him as such."

"Does everyone call him Chuck?"

Thomas laughed. "It took a while to catch on, I'll admit, but now even the king will call him by his nickname. It suits him far better than Charles, anyway."

I couldn't argue with that. Though I barely knew him, I struggled to see him respecting formalities, including his own name. He would be uncomfortable in such situations, as he had been when he met me. I had to make him more comfortable around me, I realized, if I wanted him to marry me.

Thomas noticed my frown. "Something worrying you?"

I shook my head quickly. "Everything's changing so fast," I replied. "I think I just realized that in a few hours I won't live here ever again."

"Aren't you happy to be leaving?"

"Of course I am. But at the same time...this has been my home for nearly three years now. It will be different being elsewhere."

He smiled in understanding, then lifted my now-full trunk. "Are you ready?"

I took a deep breath and nodded, then followed him out of the tower.

* * *

><p><strong>This is my entry for the ACA Ficathon 2011, inspired by a prompt from FaylinnNorse: "Write a story involving knights and enchanted castles in the forest with a cynical male lead."<strong><strong> Obviously I completely bastardized this prompt, but hopefully she won't mind...**

**Drop a review, s'il vous plaît !**


	2. Chapter 2

Laurence kept a sharp eye on me for our entire journey back to Chuck's hunting lodge. I looked first uncomfortable to be leaving the place I had called home for so long, then wondrous as the things I was seeing. I smiled inside to see his disappointment at my perfect demeanor.

Chuck questioned me thoroughly about my background, and I answered each question flawlessly. I was born in the city of Grand-ville in a country called Belcampagnia.

"I have never heard of either of those places," he told me, as I'd been sure he would. He asked his more well-educated knights, and even Laurence was forced to agree that he had never known such a place existed.

"I did not expect you had," I reassured him. "It is far away, I am sure; across the sea, at least. After months in the tower, when no one had found me, I began to doubt I was anywhere near my home. I was finally in there long enough to realize that my family wasn't coming. They didn't know where I was. They probably didn't know that where I was even existed."

In an impulsive move, Chuck took my hand in his and squeezed it. His palms were rough and sweaty, and I couldn't help but flinch slightly. He dropped it with a muttered apology and an ugly blush.

"Do you have any idea why you were taken?" Laurence asked in his quiet voice.

I shook my head, the picture of longtime bewilderment. "If my parents knew such a thing was coming, they never told me, and I never even saw whoever or whatever it was that took me."

"Could you have done anything?"

I pursed my lips and furrowed my brow, considering. Could gentle, beautiful, tame Elise have done anything to anger anyone enough to incur this fate? Surely my beauty wasn't enough to prompt such a thing, and I had no special power that I knew of. "I can think of nothing," I answered honestly.

Laurence's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more. Chuck, meanwhile, asked me about my parents, my home, my people, my country, my family, and my years in the tower, and I responded happily and in great detail until we arrived at the lodge. I was surprised to notice it was nearly dusk. I couldn't remember time ever passing so quickly.

"Welcome," Chuck said, sweeping his arm grandiosely over the vista. It was one of the larger houses I'd ever seen, but I could tell it wasn't especially impressive. Small, perhaps twenty-five rooms, and covered in ivy over the worn brick. The gate creaked loudly as Thomas and the blond knight whose name I had yet to learn pushed it open. In the courtyard, a young boy grabbed the horses while Laurence helped me down from Chuck's horse.

"I know this isn't as nice as your palace at home, but I hope you can make yourself comfortable for a few days before we begin our trip back to the capital," he continued.

"This is lovely," I assured him. "Much better than my tower."

He smiled not-quite-dazzlingly and turned to the servant. "Prepare a room for Princess Elise. She will be staying with us until we return to the capital."

The servant bowed and vanished, leaving the knights to tend to their own horses. I followed Chuck through the heavy wood door into a small, dark foyer. Tapestries on the walls depicted various hunting scenes, and the stone under our feet was uneven. Still, it was the finest home I'd ever been in.

"I'm afraid we can't offer you much in the way of food. We don't even have tea. I hope you won't mind," Chuck apologized again.

Stop apologizing! I thought angrily, but I kept my expression sweet and said, "I have gone nearly three years without tea. A few days more will make no difference."

He smiled gratefully back at me and led me through a door on the left into a small study. After graciously offering me the most comfortable armchair, he took a seat at my side and studied me intensely.

"May I ask what is on my lord's mind?" I said politely, uncomfortable under his gaze.

He started as if from a trance, then shot me a sheepish grin. "I was only wondering, my lady, how so fair a creature could have lived so near to me for three years without my discovering her."

I could have answered his question quite easily, but he would not have been pleased to hear it. "Perhaps the tower was hidden from view by magic as part of the curse," I speculated instead.

"Why would it wear off after only three years? Wouldn't a witch as evil as the one who imprisoned you want you hidden away forever?" a new voice asked from the doorway.

I groaned internally. Laurence.

"All curses are meant to be broken," I replied, my voice sugary sweet. "I recently passed my eighteenth birthday; perhaps the spell on the tower dissolved then."

"Perhaps."

"Why must you question the girl so, Laur? She's lived in a damned castle for three years! She shouldn't have to deal with constant interrogation on top of it," Chuck said, jumping to his feet. It seemed the red-haired temper was more truth than myth.

"I am only protecting you, my lord."

"Protecting me from what?"

Laurence looked me up and down, as though trying to determine my angle simply from looking at me. I merely looked shocked at the scene transpiring before me.

"Temptresses. Women who seek only your fortune. Perhaps even witches or fairies. One should never take something at its word, particularly not something from this forest."

"I will not have Princess Elise maligned in this manner! You will apologize to her and show her the respect she deserves!" Chuck roared.

My eyes were wide as saucers as Laurence pursed his lips, then bowed before me, his grey gaze never leaving mine. "I apologize if I have offended you, my lady," he said, the picture of politesse.

His eyes told a different story. I know something's off about you, they said, and I intend to find out what.

"I accept your apology, Sir Laurence," I said with a nervous smile. "I understand that you were only doing your duty. Please, if anything about me seems questionable, do not hesitate to ask, and I will explain to the best of my ability. I would not want to spent so much time with His Majesty if one of his closest friends found me untrustworthy."

Two can play at this game, my eyes told him, and his glinted back at the challenge.

"I only hope you will not find my questions too intrusive, then, or too insinuating. I assure you, I mean no insult."

"You're damned right, you don't," Chuck growled as he sat back down in his chair, oblivious to what had just passed between Laurence and me.

Laurence, heeding Chuck's glower and my cool stare, bowed out of the room, leaving us alone again.

"Really, my lord, I don't mind his questions," I said after an awkward silence.

"Chuck," he said wearily.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Call me Chuck. I won't have those nonsense formalities in my own home."

"Then I must ask you to call me Elise."

He looked up at me with a huge smile plastered across his face, and when he reached over and took my hand, I barely even noticed how clammy it was.

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, my made-up country is "pretty countryside" in French. And its made-up capital is called "Big Town." I have never claimed to be good at country names.<strong>

**Drop a review, s'il vous plaît !  
><strong>


	3. Chapter 3

The bedchamber I was led to after dinner was small, but cozy, with a large deer's head over the stone fireplace and a bearskin rug on the floor. I waited until the servants had left to shuck my slippers and wiggle my bare toes in the soft fur. I had never seen such luxury. I flopped gracelessly onto the featherbed, which I found exactly as comfortable as I had always imagined, if not more so. Years of straw ticks and the hard pallet in the tower melted away as I sunk into the cushioning bed frame. Oh, I could sleep on this forever!

I dragged myself out of the bed when I started falling asleep and undressed myself in preparation for bed. I dug through my saddlebags until I found my diary, where I confided my long-awaited rescue in glowing, exuberant terms. Then, barely able to keep my eyes open, I collapsed into bed.

I was roughly awakened hours later. The room was dark, the fire having long since died out, but I could see the glint of a knife at my throat. My heart started pounding and my mind leapt into overdrive.

"What is your name?" a voice asked.

"I—What?"

"What is your name?" it repeated more urgently.

"Elise, Princess Elise of Belcampagnia. What's going on?" I was still struggling to place the voice. It sounded so familiar…

I heard the scratch of a match being lit, and the candle on my bedside table illuminated Laurence's face as he sheathed his dagger.

"You've passed one test," he said, though his voice held more frustration than relief.

"What in the name of heaven is going on?" I asked, my panic dissolving into anger. "What are you doing in my chamber, threatening me?"

"You yourself said you were open to my interrogation, Elise." He spat my name out as though it were some sort of dirty word. "You must accept it in all of its forms."

"You dare treat me like a common criminal?"

"Until I am thoroughly convinced you aren't one, yes. Or would you prefer I voice my doubts to the king?"

I frowned. The king was unlikely to believe me as easily as Chuck had, especially if Laurence's evidence seemed sound. Which, I had no doubt, it would be.

"I can stop at any time," he said, his tone as challenging as my eyes had been earlier, "if you will only answer me honestly."

I couldn't very well have him waking me up every night to interrogate me while I was half-asleep. But I couldn't be honest with him either. At least, not completely.

"Ask your questions."

"You'll answer them?"

I was struck by a brilliant thought. "Only if you'll answer mine."

He pursed his lips again, and I smiled wickedly. Here, at least, I could be myself.

"Very well. What do you want with Chuck?"

"He rescued me from my imprisonment in the tower. I owe him my deepest gratitude, and would be willing to do whatever he asked," I simpered.

"You mean marry him." It wasn't a question.

"That is the traditional reward for gentlemen who find ladies in towers."

"But why do you want to marry him so badly?"

He thought he'd trapped me, I could tell. I merely smiled and said, "It's my turn to ask you a question. What do you get out of proving me false?"

His cool façade fell for a moment as his eyes widened at my question. "What do you mean, what do I get?"

"I mean," I explained as condescendingly as I could, "that everyone has an angle. You seem to know mine. What's yours? Money? Power? Prestige?"

"It's my job."

"It's the other knights' job as well, isn't it? And yet here you are, questioning me in the middle of the night, and they're all asleep in their beds. So tell me, why so persistent?"

"Chuck is a good friend of mine. I don't want to see him hurt, least of all by you."

Loyalty to a friend. Unlikely, especially in someone as pragmatic as I could see Laurence was, but I had no choice but to accept it.

"My turn. Why do you want to marry Chuck? Surely you don't love him?"

I thought of Chuck's yellow-toothed grin, his clammy hands, his complete ineptitude in social manners. No, I could never love him, and Laurence knew it.

"Marrying Chuck will keep me safe," I answered finally.

"From what?"

"Ah-ah," I said, shaking my head. "What's someone like you doing as Chuck's bodyguard?"

"Someone like me?" Laurence looked confused.

"Intelligent. Clever. Worldly wise. Surely you'd be better suited on a council or on your own land."

"This is what I want to do."

I laughed aloud at the blatant lie. His detachment, his complete disinterest in his fellow bodyguards, and his eagerness to argue with his prince belied his hatred for his job. He knew as well as I that he was better suited elsewhere.

"Very well. My family is poor, and the only way to get enough money for my sister to have a dowry was for me to join the knighthood. She inherited my land when I renounced it, and soon she's to be wed to a duke."

I arched an eyebrow. He had twice given me completely altruistic explanations for his actions, neither of which I entirely believed. No one was this good. Especially not Laurence.

"What will marrying Chuck keep you safe from?" Laurence asked, his eyes boring into me as though this single answer would unravel my mysteries.

I wove in a bit of truth from my past. "From marrying someone else. My father…he wanted me to marry one of his friends. A man old enough to be his father, a drunkard with ten children who drove his wife to—" I stopped. Suddenly this was too personal. I didn't want Laurence— I didn't want anyone— to know this about me.

I couldn't meet his eyes. I didn't want to see the pity I knew was there. But there was no avoiding the sudden tenderness in his tone.

"You know your father's far away now, right? And it's been three years. Even if you went back, he's probably married to someone else. Or dead. You're safe here."

"I know," I said, ashamed of the tears that filled my eyes at his sudden caring. What right did he have to act so kindly after the way he'd been treating me since the moment we met?

"She killed herself, didn't she?" Laurence asked quietly, then continued without waiting for my silent confirmation. "You were afraid you'd do the same. You were happy to be whisked away."

I ran away, I thought. "I didn't want ten children. I didn't want to bear him more. I didn't want…" I trailed off.

"You do know you'll be expected to bear Chuck's children."

I shook my head. "It's not the same. Chuck is different. He would love his children and treasure his wife. Treasure me. I wouldn't mind giving him children."

The bed rose as Laurence stood. "I should go," he said softly. "I wouldn't want to be discovered in the princess's room in the dead of night. Your reputation would be ruined, to say nothing of mine."

I laughed at his joke, the urge to cry abating. "Goodnight, Laurence."

"Goodnight, princess."

I lay back in the heavenly bed and before long drifted off to sleep again.

* * *

><p><strong>Aw, Elise, you <em>do<em> have a soul!**

**Drop a review, s'il vous plaît !**


	4. Chapter 4

Chuck slipped back into his chivalrous façade the next morning, insisting on forgoing hunting in order to spend time with me. He seemed to miserable at the thought, however, that I was easily able to persuade him to go out without me.

"I have been alone for three years," I told him. "If anything, I've begun to crave solitude. Besides, you're here to hunt, not to entertain some wayward princess."

His weak protests were overcome by his desire to be outdoors, and I was left in the manor with the blond knight, whose name I learned was Michael, to keep me company. I couldn't help but relax when I lost sight of Laurence's dark hair.

Michael proved to be a friendly man, much like Thomas, and far more suited to Chuck's honor guard than Laurence. He regaled me with stories of their exploits in the past, and I couldn't help but laugh with him at many of them. Aside from hunt and run down village boys, Chuck seemed to spend a great deal of his time treading on fine ladies' toes, knocking heads with foreign dignitaries while bowing, and referring to high-ranking officials by incorrect titles. Though he was always first to laugh at his clumsiness and impropriety, Chuck's failures had left him with a fear of mistakes, one that I could sense behind his feigned gallantry. Michael's stories went a long way to explaining the prince's discomfiture with all things formal.

Michael tried several times to draw me into conversation about my own past, which I deftly avoided by asking him about himself. I learned that he had always wanted to be a knight as his father had been, that he had begun as a squire when he was ten years old, and that serving the prince was, for him, the highest honor he could achieve. He was one of the best of the royal knights at jousting, though he had never won in a tournament. I led him into explaining each and every one of his losses, then allowed my thoughts to drift as he did so. He seemed overjoyed to have found someone to listen to his tales.

Chuck returned near sundown with a brace of rabbits and a boar strung across his saddle. Over dinner he recounted his hunt, and I gasped with horror at appropriate parts. It was not entirely an act: the boar had, at one point, nearly speared him on its tusks, and my relief at his near miss was completely genuine. Chuck was my strongest ally against Laurence's doubts. To lose him was to lose my chance at nobility.

I had trouble sleeping that night, my senses on high alert for another interrogation by Laurence. When dawn arrived and he had not, I finally fell into a true sleep, only to find myself alone in the lodge, this time with Thomas, hours later. Though he was as genial as Michael had been, I dismissed him, wanting some time alone. I found a book on herb lore— one of the only topics covered in Chuck's library— and sat down with it, grateful for something to read. When Chuck returned, we had another peaceful dinner, and I was left undisturbed through the night. The next morning, we left for the capital, where I would be introduced at last to the king and queen.

Laurence's silence over the past two days unnerved me. I refused to believe he had been satisfied with answers to so few questions, and my beliefs were confirmed when I caught his suspicious glance as we rode out. Why, then, had his interrogations ceased?

The sidesaddle Thomas had found for me was old, its leather cracked and stiff from disuse. He confided that no noblewoman had set foot in the hunting lodge for over twenty years, since Chuck's birth had put an end to his mother's hunting. I merely thanked him for finding a suitable saddle for a lady such as myself, though in truth I had never ridden sidesaddle. Laurence's grey eyes watched me mount awkwardly and noted my discomfort.

Yet another mark against me, I thought.

Chuck spent the journey assuaging my nerves.

"Mother and Father will be most happy to meet you," he told me. "They've been waiting ages for me to get married."

I smiled and cocked an eyebrow. "Are we to be married, then?"

He flushed an ugly red. "I forgot I hadn't asked you yet," he apologized. "If you would like, we could try to find your family first. I've never heard of Belcampagnia, but the city library is gigantic, and surely there's some mention of it somewhere in there. And then, I suppose, you would want to go home."

He sounded so dejected that I had to force down a smile. "Chuck, as much as I would like to find my parents and go home, this is my home now. I've been gone for three years. My parents must have given me up for dead by now." I looked away quickly as if overcome with emotion.

He took my hand again, and I met his gaze. "Will you marry me, then, provided my parents approve?"

I nodded eagerly. "Of course I will, Chuck. I would be honored to be your bride."

His yellow-toothed grin was only just short of dazzling at the news, but when I locked eyes with Laurence, all I saw was a scowl.

"My lord, if I may have a word," he said, riding up beside Chuck. I obligingly dropped back to hear the excited congratulations of Michael and Thomas, but my ears were attuned to the conversation ahead of me.

"You promised me you would do nothing rash until I had completed my investigation," Laurence hissed.

"Rash? Laur, I rescued the girl from a tower, then kept her in a hunting lodge with no escort for two full days before traveling back into town with her— another two-day journey, also unescorted. Marriage is practically required."

"She could be anyone, my lord. A witch, a peasant pretender—"

"A foreign princess locked in a tower. Honestly, it's like you don't want to believe in tales."

"Tales are just that: tales. In reality, no noble prince rescues a beautiful— or in our case, rather average-looking— damsel from a tower with no consequences but a happy ending! I promise you, this Princess Elise is more than she seems."

Chuck's face had flushed again, this time with anger, and his grip on the reins had tightened. "Why can't you let me be happy?" he asked, his voice dropping. "I finally find a woman I can see myself married to, and you're trying to convince me she's not good enough! This is the only time I've ever felt comfortable about doing my royal duty. Why must you ruin that?"

Laurence sighed, glancing back at me. I looked studiously away, smiling happily at my good fortune. He raised his voice as though he knew I was listening.

"Very well. Only promise me you won't marry her right away. Give me a year, at least, to prove myself right, and if I can't you can marry her and produce heirs all you like."

"A year," Chuck mused. "Yes, Mother will want at least that much time to plan. She'll want a lavish wedding to celebrate her marrying off her unmarriageable son. Take your year, Laurence, but don't expect my support."

"I thank you, my lord," Laurence said, dipping his head before turning his horse to the back of the party. As he passed me our eyes met, and I felt an unshakeable hatred emanating from him. I smiled pleasantly, feigning ignorance as to the whole encounter, but a shiver of fear ran down my spine. If anyone could ruin my plans, it would be Laurence, and he'd been given permission from me and his liege lord to do just that.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh dear, Elise, I foresee trouble in your future.<strong>

**On a side note, this chapter marks the end of my pre-written buffer. I would like to think that I can write 1300 decent words for this by next week, but just in case...at least y'all know.**

**Drop a review, s'il vous plaît !**

**~~Mazzie~~**


	5. Chapter 5

Our journey to the capital was uneventful. Chuck insisted we travel slowly so I wouldn't be inconvenienced, despite my every protest to the contrary.

"I don't mind spending a few days enjoying the countryside," he told me. "It's better than court, anyway."

"Won't your parents worry if you're not back?" I asked.

He shook his head. "They're used to it. It wouldn't be the first time I spent a few extra days hunting."

Our two-day journey ended up taking much longer than I had thought possible, and we arrived at the capital around mid-afternoon on the fourth day. I was surprised, though I shouldn't have been, at how little fanfare there was around Chuck's return. I, however, received many curious glances, as it wasn't everyday that a man returned from hunting with a woman in tow. I could only imagine the rumors that were already flying around town about me. I would have to set them straight quickly.

The rumors preceded us to the castle, where the man who took Chuck's horse informed him that his parents wished an audience with both of us immediately. With an apologetic look over his shoulder at me, Chuck followed the servant into the castle and through many wide, open hallways.

I took the opportunity to be amazed. I had never, ever been in a finer building than this one. The ceilings were easily as high as my tower, with narrow white columns on either side. Brilliantly colored tapestries covered every wall, detailing hunting scenes, battles, and great moments of court history. Some were so lifelike I could see their eyes following me as I passed them.

The flagstone floor on either side of the hall was polished to a reflective shine, but the rich red carpet beneath my feet was what truly impressed me. My feet sank in deep, and I found myself wanting to bend down and touch it.

_I am a princess_, I reminded myself._ Such luxury is nothing to me._

Still, I couldn't help but marvel. Ineria was a wealthy country, I knew, and nowhere was its wealth better displayed than here, its palace. The fine hallway I was in was only a small part of the immense building, and I had no doubt that the rest of it was as richly accoutered. When we finally turned into a parlor, my theory was proven correct.

The room, though obviously "small", would have contained the interior of my tower easily. Its walls were dark-wood paneled, its floor covered in plush carpet, and its windows curtained in velvet. Through them I could see the entire city as it covered the hill below the palace. Were all the palace views so spectacular?

I turned my attention to the people in the room. Several I dismissed as servants or guards, but two of them were clearly noble. The king and queen. He was tall, stout, and balding, his hair red as Chuck's. I could see Chuck's future in him. The queen was also tall, taller even than her husband, with icy blue eyes and dark hair pulled into a severe bun at the base of her skull. She didn't look like the type of woman to be so happy at her son's marriage that she would accept anyone he brought before her.

"So this is what took you so long getting back," she said coldly.

"Mother," Chuck replied, bowing.

I took his cue and curtseyed deeply. "Your Majesties."

The queen ignored me. "Who is this and where did you find her?"

"Mother, this is Elise. We found her in a tower in the woods while hunting," Chuck said.

"And who is she?" the queen asked again, this time looking pointedly at me.

"If it please Your Majesty," I said, curtseying low again, "my name is Elise, princess of Belcampagnia. Three years past I was taken from my home and imprisoned in a tower in your woods. Until your son found me, I thought I would be there forever."

"I've never heard of Belcampagnia," the king said, his interest apparently piqued. "Where is it?"

I frowned. "From here, I don't know. If I did, I would have gone home long ago. If it please Your Majesties, I would like to look in your library to see if I could find a map that holds my country. At the very least my parents should know I'm alive."

"So she's only here until she can find her family?" the queen asked hopefully.

Chuck shifted next to me. "Well," he began, then cleared his throat, "not exactly, no. We're rather…engaged."

"You're _what_?" The queen's astonished rage was palpable. I found myself shrinking before her until I reminded myself that I, too, was royalty.

"If it please Your Majesties," I interjected before Chuck could begin what I was only too certain would be a stumbling, awkward explanation that would only enrage them further, "Chuck was so noble in rescuing me from my tower, where I'd been trapped for three years, that I couldn't help but be grateful. I asked what I could do to repay him, and he mentioned he needed a wife. Naturally, I volunteered. I felt it was only right after how he saved my life."

I could almost hear Laurence rolling his eyes behind me. I had little doubt he would provide his own version of the story— one in which I came off less a grateful damsel and more a conniving witch— to the queen after we left. I could only hope to make the best impression possible on her now so that she would be less likely to believe his tale.

"Charles, my dear," the queen said, and out of the corner of my eye I could see him cringe at her use of his full name, "did you never think to question her story? To verify it? Are you so sure she is who she says she is?"

His face flushed an ugly purple. "I found a woman in a tower in the woods, Mother. Such things happen only in tales, yet this one happened to me. She is kind, and she is lovely—" I heard Laurence choke back a laugh at that— "and she_ wants_ to marry me. That should be enough for you. I know it's enough for me."

The queen looked away, her expression what I would call abashed if I didn't know better. "I am glad you found someone, Chuck. I just don't know anything about her. I will happily get to know her if you ask."

"I would be honored to know you better, Your Majesty," I said with yet another deep curtsey. I supposed I was going to have to get used to frequent curtseying if I was to live at court.

"Go," the queen said. "Get yourselves cleaned up for dinner. We will talk properly then, Princess Elise."

I curtseyed a final time while the rest of the men bowed, then followed Chuck out of the room.

"Sir Laurence, if I may?" I heard the queen ask as we left, but the door shut behind us before I could hear any more. I had little doubt as to the subject of their conversation: me, and how to get rid of me.

I would have to tread even more carefully here. I was surrounded by enemies on all sides.

* * *

><p><strong>"Her royal highness, the Queen of Ineria!"<strong>

**"*ahem*"**

**"And the king."**

**Reviews are toujours appreciated!**

**~~Mazzie~~**


	6. Chapter 6

If my room at Chuck's hunting lodge had been luxurious, my room at his palace was still more so. By the time I reached it, my meager belongings had already been brought in and unpacked for me, the palace servants proving a good deal more efficient than I had expected. The walls, though high, were covered in tapestries and curtains that made the chamber cozy and warm, and the carpet beneath my feet was as fine as any I had seen thus far.

The bed was the true marvel, however, a monstrosity of feather mattresses and pillows and thick down blankets. I could hardly wait to sink down into it.

_First things first, however_, I told myself. I slipped out of my dress and into a nightgown, then searched the room for my diary to confide the day's events. The servants must have hidden it well, however, because it was nowhere I looked, not even the odd places like under the mattress or on the mantle. At last I gave up. One day without writing in that frivolous little book wouldn't do any harm. It was a weight off my shoulders, I thought. I would look for it in the morning.

I am good at many things, but ignoring coincidences is not one of them. When I heard the next morning that Sir Laurence had left on a special mission for the queen, I knew it had something to do with my missing diary. Somehow, Laurence had gotten hold of it; _very well_, I thought. There was nothing incriminating in there, just Elise's whole story. _My_ whole story.

The most important question was where the queen had sent him. Belcampagnia was an unknown country here, at least to everyone I had thus far spoken to. He couldn't have gone there. Perhaps he was trying to find someone who knew of my country, but wouldn't the scholars be concentrated here, in the capital? I knew little of the countries surrounding Ineria, information I could have used. Perhaps a trip to the royal library was in order.

Chuck, however, had other plans. He summoned me to breakfast with him on a patio in one of the lushest gardens I had ever seen. The morning sun set the dew on the grass to glittering, and the crisp morning air was nearly enough to make me forget my worries.

"Did you sleep well?" Chuck asked as he pulled out my chair for me.

"Quite, you?"

He shrugged. "It's noisy here. I guess I got used to how quiet the hunting lodge is."

"I didn't even notice the noise," I said with a smile. "After all that time alone, you'd think I would. I suppose I was too exhausted."

"We should have traveled more slowly."

"No, our speed was fine. I think it was too many changes in too short a time. Not that I'm complaining, of course. I'd rather be here than in my tower."

He snorted in what sounded like disagreement. "A tower in the woods with no one around to watch everything you do, or here, were people are always watching and judging…the choice seems easy to me."

I smiled at him. "Solitude does have its benefits."

"When we're married, we'll go to the lodge every fall. We'll live there more than here," Chuck said.

My smile dropped. "That sounds lovely, but don't you have responsibilities? You'll be king someday."

"Don't remind me," he groaned. "I'll be a dreadful king. I want nothing to do with politics and ruling."

"Someone has to."

"That's what councilors are for, isn't it?"

"Chuck—"

"You could do it! You're royal, you'll be queen. No one would question your ruling."

I paused, considering. I had not the slightest idea how to rule a country, let alone how to deal with nobles or peasants. I had never thought of ruling, never considered it a possibility in my future. It was an intimidating prospect; I could understand Chuck's anxiety.

"There are those who would question it," I said. "I'm a girl you found in the woods. I could be anyone. Few would want an unknown on the throne."

"But you're not 'anyone'! You're a princess!"

"They don't know that."

"_I_ know that, and they know me. That should be enough for them." Chuck reached across the table and took my hand.

"What if it isn't?" I my doubts were overwhelming. Laurence didn't trust me, the queen didn't believe me, and now the two of them were working together to find a way to discredit me. It was too much, far more than what I had planned. I had given so little thought to what would happen when I was found. I expected a nobleman, certainly, but a minor one, one who could marry a girl he found in a tower with little consequence. Happy as I had been when my minor noble turned out to be a prince, I was unprepared to deal with the questions and doubts of being a prince's consort.

"It will be. I'll protect you, my lady, I promise." Chuck sounded gentler than he ever had in the time I'd known him. A response to my fears, nothing more, I knew, but I couldn't help but feel comforted. I squeezed his hand without replying, and we sat quietly for a long moment.

"Would you like to see the gardens?" Chuck asked finally. "Being out in the fresh air always makes me feel better. And the gardens are beautiful," he added, almost as an afterthought.

_I'd actually like to see the library,_ I thought. _I need to find out where Laurence went, what he's looking for, so I can find it first._ But rather than say that, I smiled at him and stood.

"I'd love to," I said.

The gardens were as lovely as Chuck had said. Although it was somewhat late in the season, flowers rioted over the walls in splashes of color that rivaled the finest cloth. The air was crisp and clear, but the sun was warm against the breeze. It was a perfect day, and I couldn't help but think everything was going to work out. Perhaps Chuck was right about the outdoors.

We wandered around for the rest of the morning, chatting easily about the weather and the beauty of the outdoors and avoiding all talk of politics and the future. I was surprised, not for the first time, by Chuck's ease around me. He had dropped his pretense of formality and now treated me the same way he did Laurence, Thomas, and Michael. I wondered why that was. Was it because we were going to be married? Had I simply made him comfortable around me? Did he only see me as a friend?

Close to noon, a winded servant caught up with us. "Your Highness," he panted, "your presence is requested at the council meeting."

Chuck looked at me apologetically. "I'd completely forgotten," he confessed, and I could see the mask of propriety returning to his amiable face. "This has been so lovely, my lady. Pray excuse me."

I nodded and curtsied, and Chuck turned to go, calling to the servant ver his shoulder to escort me back to my chambers.

I seized my chance. "If you wouldn't mind, actually, I'd like to see the library," I said sweetly. "It's been years since I had something new to read."

"As you wish, my lady," the servant said with a bow before leading me back through the gardens and into the palace.

* * *

><p><strong>Unknown on the Throne is the name of my band.<strong>

**So the last few weeks have been busy. Moved into my apartment, started school again, etc. Hence the lack of updates. But here we are, back in action, and if my classes continue to be as boring as they have been for the past few weeks we shall have regular updates out the wazoo.**

**Thanks for reading, and drop a review, s'il vous plaît !**


	7. Chapter 7

The library was a huge, dimly lit room on the second floor. The first thing I noticed was how dusty was, as though no one really spent enough time there to make it worth cleaning. The second thing I noticed was the books. Walls and walls of books. Shelves drooping under the weight of books. Long dark corridors between shelves that promised more books beyond. More books than I had ever heard of in my life.

_There can't be another place with as much knowledge as this,_ I thought. Wherever Laurence had gone, it wasn't to find a center of learning.

I thanked the servant who had led me there, and he bowed and excused himself, leaving me alone in the silent room. Not for very long, however. Hardly had the door clicked shut when a stooped older man emerged from between two shelves and greeted me.

"So nice to see a new face around here," he said cheerily. His voice creaked as though he hadn't used it for a while. "How may I help you?"

The seemingly simple question gave me pause. What _did_ I want? What would Laurence be looking for?

"My name is Elise," I began. "I'm the princess of a country called Belcampagnia. I was brought here by some foul magic and imprisoned in a tower until your prince rescued me. I was wondering if you perhaps knew anything of my homeland, just so I can know where I am." My voice constricted at the end, as though I were close to tears. It worked.

"Belcampagnia, Belcampagnia…" the librarian mused. "I don't know that I've heard of it, though it does sound familiar…I'll have to look for it, my lady. Is there anything you would like while you wait?"

"I'll look myself, thank you," I said. "Please let me know if ever you come across the name."

He nodded and bustled off, taking a lantern down one of the long, dark corridors. I, meanwhile, browsed the shelves, looking for anything to catch my eye.

_A Complete History of Ineria and its Families_, one gold-embossed spine read. I reached up and pulled it from the shelf. It would be useful to know, decidedly, and a completely understandable choice for a princess from a distant land who was soon to marry into the royal family. I took it to an armchair in the corner and settled down to begin reading.

Though somewhat dry, the book was fascinating. Ineria had a more complex history than any of the songs about it indicated. Oh, the battles described were familiar enough, but the politics behind them were what interested me. Here were men and women doing what I could only dream of: using their wits and words to make others do as they wanted, finding power that didn't lie in physical strengths or other genetic gifts. The first kings of Ineria, I learned, were little more than well-armed, politically savvy peasants. I stowed this information away should I ever need it.

I was finally interrupted several hours later by the librarian as he returned from the depths of the library.

"You're still here," he said, sounding surprised. "Good, very good, well, then, I'm afraid I don't have anything for you just now. The word wasn't where I thought it was. I'm afraid I'll have to look harder."

"Where were you looking?" I asked.

"Trade records and old maps. I was sure I had seen its name there. I must have been mistaken. I'm sorry."

"If you've seen it before, it's in here somewhere," I said as reassuringly as possible. Inside I was a mixture of disappointment and relief. If I could prove Belcampagnia's existence, my story would gain credibility. But if the queen contacted the Belcampagnian royal family and they came for me, my life here would be destroyed. Erased. Nothing more than a brief anecdote in Ineria's history.

"I'll keep looking, my lady."

"Thank you," I said. "Do you mind if I take this? I would vey much like to keep reading."

"By all means, take it! It's wonderful to see a noble with an interest in reading." he smiled amiably and wandered off again, leaving me to take the book and go.

Michael found me later that evening as I perched on the railing of my balcony, reading.

"Good evening, my lady," he said cheerily. "I've been sent to fetch you for dinner."

I smiled and closed my book. "They didn't want to send a servant?"

He shrugged. "My job, apparently, is to function as a servant when Chuck doesn't want to use one. Come, my lady, get off that ledge before you fall to your death."

I laughed and stood, showing him I was in no danger. The railing was wide enough that even three stories up, I felt no fear of falling.

"Chuck won't be pleased to hear you've been putting yourself in danger while he was in meetings. He'll never let you leave his side again," Michael joked as we left my chambers.

"His mother will be pleased with that," I said without thinking. I could have slapped myself. Her servants were undoubtedly listening; they'd already stolen my diary. I had to remember that I was always being watched here. I could not allow something as simple as this, a lighthearted comment, to destroy everything I was working for.

Michael, seemingly unaware of my discomfort, laughed. "She would indeed," he said. "The only thing she'd love more than seeing her son blunder his way through court proceedings would be seeing him blunder through them with a woman she considers no more than a social-climbing peasant!"

"Please don't tell him," I said with a feigned laugh. I was thinking about what he'd said. _Social-climbing peasant_, I thought. I expected nothing less. If a social-climbing peasant was all they thought me, I would simply have to prove them wrong. Laurence, the queen, the court…all of them.

"So," Michael changed the subject, "how are you liking the capital?"

_A loaded question_, I thought. "It's different," I replied. When he raised an eyebrow at me, I continued somewhat warily, "All those years in the tower, I got used to being alone, to doing things myself. I suppose I forgot how many people there are in a place like this."

"Was't this what your home was like?"

"I suppose it must have been, but I never really noticed it. I grew up with that; I never knew anything else. Now that I've spent so much time alone, the differences are clearer."

"What was your home like?"

I shrugged. "Like this, I suppose. Servants offering to help at every step, gardens full of flowers— though ours had more fountains—, large chambers more ornate than possible…less intrigue, at least that I noticed when I was younger. Aren't all courts, at their root, the same?"

"I guess. I've never been in another court."

By this time, we had reached the parlor where Chuck and I were to have dinner. Michael left me at the door with a bow, and I went in as calmly as I could. I was displeased, but not surprised, to see the king and queen would be joining us.

"Your Majesties," I said with a low curtsy, "I was not expecting you, else I would have dressed more suitably."

"Quite all right, dear," the queen said, her pleasant words hardly concealing the ice in her tone. "We all know how limited your wardrobe is. Something we shall remedy as soon as possible, not to worry."

"I thank you, Your Majesties," I replied just as sweetly. "Your generosity is astounding."

"Really, dear, it's the least we could do for our son's fiancée." The queen's smile seemed painted on. I wondered if she was enjoying this as much as I was.

Chuck chose that moment to guide me to my seat and help me into it. My enjoyment flickered briefly at the pained expression on his face. Here was someone who was not looking forward to this at all.

The remainder of the meal was equally tense. Chuck and the king kept their silence while the queen and I dueled across the table. She asked me about my family and my life back in Belcampagnia, even going so far as to ask if I recognized any constellations here from my homeland. I replied as innocently as I could, telling her about my parents and my castle and how I had never been much good as an astronomer. Occasionally Chuck managed to slip a comment or question is, but when he wasn't ignored he got only the most cursory of answers. This meal was about the queen testing my mettle and discovering if I really was who I said I was. Chuck was merely there as an excuse.

At last, the king cleared his throat and mentioned a foreign dignitary who was waiting to meet him. I was somewhat surprised: I had begun to wonder if he were mute. The queen took her cue from him, and the dinner broke up. It fell to Chuck to escort me back to my chambers.

"I'm sorry about my mother," he said as soon as we were out of the queen's earshot. "She can be a bit…much."

I smiled. "She's only doing what she thinks is best for her son. I would do exactly the same in her place. Besides, I found that quite enjoyable."

"You're insane." Chuck was grinning. "That's the only way you could possibly have _enjoyed_ that."

"Battles of wits are fun."

He snorted. "I told you, you should rule. If you like it so much, and you're so good at it…"

"Chuck…" This was a conversation for another time. The idea of ruling was becoming more palatable to me by the minute, but he didn't need to know that. Nor did his mother. At least, not yet.

When we reached my bedchamber, Chuck turned me to face him.

"Elise," he said, and immediately I knew what was going to happen. "You are wonderful. You're beautiful and smart and so much better at all of this than I am. I'm glad to be marrying you."

I opened my mouth to thank him, but he seized the moment and pressed his lips over mine. It was not an altogether unpleasant experience: his lips were dry, not slobbery as I'd thought they might be, and he was more gentle than he ever had been before, even with me. But I couldn't force myself to feel anything for him. He was just Chuck, nothing more.

Perhaps sensing my reluctance, he pulled away and vanished down the hall before I could say a word.

* * *

><p><strong>Astute readers will wonder about this dinner party.<strong>

**Also this chapter is very long. The next chapter is very short. That is all.**

**Drop a review if you will.**

**~~Mazzie~~**


	8. Chapter 8

The next week passed uneventfully. Whenever Chuck had free time, he spent it with me, and whenever was not with Chuck, I was in seemingly endless fittings for my new wardrobe, provided by the crown. The queen had ordered me two ball gowns, four day gowns, and two evening gowns, as well as all the undergarments, nightgowns and dressing gowns I would need. While at first I had marveled at her generosity, I had since realized that this was merely another punishment, another test. A true princess would bear it without complaint, because she would have had such fittings her entire life. So I stood still and kept my back straight and didn't complain, instead choosing to obsess again over Laurence and where he had gone, what he was learning.

My visit to the library indicated he hadn't left to find word of Belcampagnia, The only other place I could think he would have gone was the tower, but why? Nothing had changed there since they had found me. There was no evidence of anything except a lost princess trapped in a tower. Exactly the same as my diary. So why take it? Why investigate? What was Laurence— and, by extension, the queen— hoping to find?

My answer arrived soon enough. A week after The Kiss, Chuck and I were again having breakfast in the garden. He had hardly touched me since, as if he had sensed my discomfort. He had spent the two days immediately following barely speaking to me, not even making eye contact. I tired quickly of that— I was hardly going to lose my only ally in this place over something as minor as a _kiss_— and finally confronted him about it.

"Have I done something wrong? You've hardly looked at me since we had dinner with our parents."

He cleared his throat and continued staring at the ground. "I fear it is I who am in the wrong, my lady. I must apologize for my boorish behavior that evening."

I feigned surprise. "You mean when you kissed me? Oh, Chuck, there's no nead to apologize for that."

His eyes finally met mine. "Really? You didn't mind?"

I smiled and shook my head. "We're going to be married, Chuck. If you want to kiss me, you have every right."

"But do you want me to kiss you?"

The earnestness in his eyes swayed me. I swallowed hard and nodded slowly, forcing truth into my words. "Of course I do," I said, proud and relieved when my voice didn't waver. His face lit up in a glowing smile, and for a moment he was almost handsome. This time, when he leaned in to kiss me, I was prepared, and I met his lips with equal passion. Inside, I felt nothing, and for the first time I had doubts about my marriage to Chuck. Would I be able to feign love for him forever? How long would it be before he realized I was pretending?

Despite this little episode, Chuck remained distant. His social anxiety had crippled his interactions with me, and the only way I could think to prove my equal feeling toward him was to kiss him myself, something I was sure would shock his sensibilities, not to mention the court's. Perhaps someday, if I felt we were truly alone…

We were interrupted at our breakfast by a messenger, who told Chuck someone— I didn't catch the name, but I could guess— was waiting for an audience with him in his study. He politely excused himself, and I, my appetite gone, made my way back to my chambers, where my history of Ineria was waiting. I made a brief stop at the library, where the librarian regretted to inform me that he had not, as yet, come upon the name Belcampagnia in his search of the library. I assured him that he would find it and continued on my way. I had only made one wrong turn, which I quickly righted, when I heard raised voices.

"I'm only asking you to consider the possibility!" one said. I recognized it immediately. Laurence, back from wherever he had been.

"Why won't you consider the possibility that Elise is exactly what she says she is?" Chuck replied. "Is it really so unlikely?"

"Unlikely that a woman in a tower who claims to be the princess of a country that no one's ever heard of is indeed a princess? Yes, I'd sigh so! If you'd only look at the evidence I've found—"

"Damn your evidence! Elise is my fiancée! I love her and she loves me!"

The room fell silent, allowing time for the fleeting thought, _Evidence? What evidence?_ to cross my mind before the full brunt of what Chuck had said hit me. He _loved_ me? When had that happened?

"What?" Laurence asked quietly. "What do you mean?"

"I kissed her, Laurence. God help me, I kissed her, and it was wonderful. And then she told me I could kiss her whenever I liked, and we've been together whenever we could since we got back."

"And you've fallen in love with her." Laurence sounded as gobsmacked as I was.

"I have."

"You've told her?"

"I don't want to scare her off."

"But if she loves you—"

"I'm nervous, all right? She hans't told me she loves me, and if I tell her, she might close me out completely."

Laurence gave that familiar snort of stifled laughter. "She wants the throne, Chuck, not you. She'll put up with anything if it means she'll get it."

Another long pause. "Get out," Chuck snarled finally. "Take your evidence to my mother and carry on with your little plot to destroy my happiness. Go."

I moved quickly down the hall and out of sight before Laurence opened the study door. I caught a glimpse of him before he turned and went the opposite direction down the hall. He looked tired, as though he had ridden hard to get here, and more worried than I had ever seen him. For an instant I forgot that he was my enemy, trying to discredit me and ruin my plans, and I saw him as just a man trying to id what he thought best. I felt sorry for him then. Alone in his beliefs, rejected by his closest friends. I shook my head and forced myself to remember my reasons for hating him. _He's your enemy,_ I told myself, but for the first time the argument felt weak.

* * *

><p><strong>Jealousy isn't attractive on anyone, Laurence.<strong>

**So yes, this chapter was short. I know.**

**Leave a review (I'm looking at you, Spotty)!**

**~Mazzie**


	9. Chapter 9

Chuck was still upset the next morning. He couldn't meet my eyes at breakfast, and every reply I got out of him was terse and short.

"Is something the matter?" I asked finally.

He shook his head and looked away. "It's nothing."

"Something happened, Chuck. You can tell me."

When he still didn't answer, I pressed him. "Is it Laurence? Is he back?"

"He says he found evidence against you. That he's going to take it to my mother." He seemed relieved, if anything, to tell me.

I looked appropriately horrified. "What evidence?"

"He wouldn't tell me."

I pursed my lips. So much for getting that out of Chuck. "Do I at least get a chance to defend myself?" I asked.

"I'll fight for a fair trial. I can't guarantee anything." He grabbed my hand, and I noticed that I didn't mind it so much anymore.

"I don't want this to be ruined," I said, tearing up. He squeezed my hand tightly.

"It won't be. You are who you say you are. We may not have proof, but you have me on your side. That has to count for something."

I leaned over and kissed him for the first time. He seemed surprised at first, but then he slipped into the rhythm we had long since found and kissed me back.

"I love you," he murmured as he pulled away.

The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't force them out. I couldn't lie to him about something this important.

"I know you do," I said finally. "And you know how I feel about you."

Not exactly a lie, but not the truth, either. I could only imagine what Laurence would say if he were to hear it.

I slept lightly that night, as I had the night before, expecting Laurence to awaken me and confront me with his evidence. Perhaps knowing I would be waiting, he didn't appear until I slept deeply on the third night.

"What took you so long?" I asked calmly when I woke his this dagger at my throat.

"I had to wait until I was sure I wouldn't kill you," he growled. "I've been too angry for the past few nights."

"Angry? Why?" I feigned innocence.

The dagger dug into my throat. "Your claws are in deep, witch," he snarled. "But not deep enough I can't cut them out."

I tamped down a spark of real fear. "You wouldn't dare."

For a long moment we stared each other down in the candlelight. Finally, he removed the dagger.

"I leave for a week and he's in love with you. Even the queen's dropped her guard. What did you do?"

I shook my head. "I had dinner with the queen, and we talked at length. I was not aware she had let up on suspecting me. As for Chuck…a few conversations here, a few kisses there…I'm as surprised as you are he's in love with me."

"Do not presume to take this lightly," he warned, his hand again at the hilt of his dagger.

"I'm not. Declarations of love are a serious thing, especially from one's betrothed."

He was still seething mad, and I knew a few more words would push him over the edge. I sought to calm him instead.

"I didn't plan this," I said honestly. "I was being friendly with Chuck, trying to get him comfortable around me. You know how he is. We're going to be married. I can't have him like that."

"He said he kissed you."

"After we had dinner with his parents. I think he might have been a bit drunk."

"And you said he could kiss you any time."

I sighed. "He wouldn't talk to me. He was so afraid he'd ruined everything. I just wanted to calm him down."

"You told him you wanted him to kiss you."

"I lied."

Laurence's head jerked up, and his gray eyes met mine. They were exhausted, I noticed, as though he hadn't been sleeping. His gaze was so intensely accusing that my next words tumbled out of their own accord.

"Don't tell him. Please."

"Why shouldn't I? You're using him."

"I want to want him. I want to love him. I just don't."

"And you can't."

I looked away. "No."

"Then why pursue him?"

A hundred lies ran through my head. _I don't want to hurt him. Maybe someday I could love him._ I chose the one that seemed most plausible.

"I told you. I need him to protect me."

Something flickered in Laurence's eyes— disbelief, I supposed. "Anyone could protect you from a bad marriage," he said. "Why Chuck?"

"He rescued me."

"You chose him to rescue you."

"No."

He didn't believe me, I could tell. He would rather believe a woman desperate to be queen than the story I was telling him. This story was more complicated, and it involved me being more than a power-hungry witch.

"You wanted to be rescued," he said slowly, "and the first man to come upon your tower in three years just _happened_ to be the crown prince of Ineria."

"I know you don't believe me," I replied, "but yes."

Suddenly everything drained out of him. He was no longer angry or confused, just very, very tired. I had the strangest impulse to take his hand or stroke his face. It must have been the lateness of the hour. I was slightly mad from lack of sleep. That was the only possible explanation.

"Laurence," I said softly, "go to bed. You look like you haven't slept in days."

He stared hard at me, trying to summon the wrath that had been there earlier. "You won't hurt him?"

"Chuck is my friend," I said, "and my fiancé. The last thing I want to do is alienate him."

He searched my face for any sign of deception, and seemingly satisfied, he stood, waving slightly, took the candle, and turned to leave.

"Goodnight," I called after him. He merely grunted in return before disappearing through the servants' corridor. It was only once he'd left that I realized neither of us had mentioned the "evidence" he claimed to have found.

I felt much more well-rested when I woke the next morning. A servant helped me into one of my new day dresses, a white affair with pink embroidery. It was a tad bit frillier than what I would have chosen for myself, but there was no denying it was quite pretty. I felt more like a lady in this dress with my hair put up in its customary style than I ever had before. Perhaps I looked worthy to marry a prince now.

After my customary breakfast with Chuck, who, I could tell, was trying very hard to hide his remaining anger over Laurence's words of a few days before, I made my way to the library. If the librarian had yet to find Belcampagnia, so be it; I had finished my book and could use something new to read.

The first thing I heard when I opened the great wooden door was the sound of voices. _No one's ever in the library,_ I thought, surprised until I recognized the voices: the librarian and, of course, Laurence.

"Court records from how long ago?" the librarian was saying as I walked in.

"The past year, if possible," Laurence called. I could see him on the balcony above me, looking intensely at the shelf in front of him. He had yet to notice me.

_Court records?_ I thought. _What does he need court records for?_

"Ah, good morning, my lady!" the librarian greeted me. "Still nothing, alas, and now I must help Sir Laurence as well."

"No need to worry," I replied. "I'm only here for something new to read."

"Finished the history, then? How did you find it?"

"Oh, simply fascinating. The politics behind this country are more complex than I'd dreamed."

"Elise?" Laurence called down. "What are you doing here?"

"As I said, looking for something to read. What of you?"

"Nothing so interesting, I fear."

"Still trying to disprove my story?"

"I'm afraid so."

I couldn't see his face very clearly from where I was, but he sounded a good deal less tired. I was absurdly pleased at that.

"Will you at the very least come down and look me in the eye as you do it?" I asked.

He appeared beside me a moment later. "I suppose this is the gentlemanly thing to do."

"And you're nothing if not a gentleman."

He grinned at me, and I found myself noticing how white his teeth were, much whiter than Chuck's. I snapped myself back to reality. Why was he suddenly being nice to me? What had changed since the night before? When had he ever smiled in my presence?

"Are you feeling better?" I asked.

"Quite. You look lovely."

"Thank you," I said, feeling myself blush. "May I ask what brought on this change of attitude?"

He shrugged. "I haven't felt this good in months. Perhaps that's why."

I didn't believe him. Laurence was not a cheery, friendly man. He was suspicious, and he hated me. Did he have a brother?

"Sir? I have your records here, if you would like them," the librarian said as he emerged from the stacks with a huge pile of scrolls.

"Would you like to join me?" he asked, a glint of something in his eye. The same glint I had mistaken for disbelief the night before. The unease I had been feeling blossomed into real fear.

"Are you flirting with me?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.

That smile lit up his face even brighter. "Perhaps."

"Why on earth— I thought you—"

"Hated you? Why do you think I'm doing it? It makes you uncomfortable, clearly."

I scowled. Who did he think he was?

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" he asked, leaning in closer.

"It will make you uncomfortable if Chuck finds out," I replied, but even to me it sounded weak.

He laughed. "Amazing. Threaten you with exposure, with death, you don't bat an eye, but a little flirtation puts you right over the edge."

His mockery was enough to bring me to my senses. I straightened and put both my hands squarely on his chest to push him away. I could still hear his laugh behind me as I grabbed the first book that came to hand— _Agriculture and Produce in Ineria_— and fled.

* * *

><p><strong>So. This chapter was not my friend. I had to make a few edits, and I'm still not entirely pleased with the final result. Reviews are a good way to tell me what you think.<strong>

**I apologize for not updating the past couple of weeks. First my internet was out, and then last week my family received some not-very-happy-making news. If y'all are the praying kind, please keep us in your prayers.**

**My goal is to build up enough of a buffer that come NaNoWriMo I can continue to update uninterrupted. We shall see how this goes.**

**Merci d'avoir lu, et laissez-moi des critiques s'il vous plaît !**

**~Mazzie**


	10. Chapter 10

As the next month passed and the weather grew colder, more and more nobles arrived for the winter season of balls and feasts. I turned out to be quite the curiosity, not that I was much surprised. A princess being found in a tower in the woods is hardly a common occurrence. The time I had once spent in fittings was now completely full of teas, luncheons, and other social calls with ladies of the court. They were an interesting mix of curious gossips and ingratiating minor nobles trying to take advantage of my position as Chuck's fiancée. On the whole I found them rather tiresome, but as Chuck was now required to meet with the various lords and important politicians and I was steadfastly avoiding Laurence, they were my only company.

One benefit to all this was that I had all but completely lost my opportunities to read. Not that _Agriculture and Produce in Ineria_ was all that interesting, but at the very least I had not had to return to the library for something new to read. My last encounter with Laurence there had put me on high alert of a completely different kind. He had acted so strangely, and I had responded in kind…no, I couldn't be anywhere near him, not without compromising something. And he had taken to spending the entire day in the library, studying his court records. Even the librarian was not enough buffer to keep us comfortably apart.

I did, however, eventually run out of things to read. The last painfully boring page of _Agriculture and Produce in Ineria_ had been a relief, the short anecdotes of agriculture and its influence on politics notwithstanding. At the very least, if I ever had to hold court during an agricultural crisis, I would know what people were talking about, I told myself. I wondered what I should look for next. Perhaps a history of the church, or a more recent social register, so I could know as much as possible about the people coming to court. _Perhaps both,_ I thought. _Then I can avoid the library for a while longer._

I was surprised to find the library empty again. There was no sign of Laurence or of his scrolls. Had I not seen him in there on multiple occasions, I might have believed myself the only one who had ever been in here.

"My lady! So nice to see you again," the librarian said. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever come back."

"I haven't had much time for reading, I fear," I replied, "but I've finally finished this one and am ready for another."

"Very good, very good. Is there anything I can help you find?"

"If you have any sort of modern book on the noble families, that would be lovely. Everyone's coming into court and I would dearly like to know who I'm socializing with."

"Very wise, my lady, very wise. I shall fetch it for you, shall I?"

I smiled graciously and browsed the shelves while he searched out the book I had requested.

"May I ask what happened to Sir Laurence?" I asked casually.

"Oh, he ran off early this morning," the librarian replied, handing me my book. "Left his scrolls piled on the table, not in any sort of order. I had to spend a great deal of time ordering them and putting them away. Careless, careless."

"Did he mention where he was going?" My tone had become somewhat less than casual.

"I'm sorry, my lady, I was in the stacks at the time. I suppose he found what he was looking for."

_But what was that?_ I wondered. "Do you know what scroll he was looking at?"

He shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't remember, my lady."

"Thank you anyway." I paused, realizing I had never asked his name. I thought about asking now, but remembered I was a princess, and it would hardly be out of character for me not to ask. "I'll take my book and go, then."

"As you will, my lady. Shall I see you again in here soon?"

I smiled. "Hopefully I shall finish this book faster than the last."

I based my reading of this book on who I had audiences with. Conversing with people was much easier when I knew who their parents were, where they lived, and how long they had been in the noble class. I was not at all surprised to find the ingratiating ladies from poorer or disgraced houses and the gossips from newer ones. No one seemed to question my newfound knowledge, though they did seem to appreciate it. Many of the ladies, particularly the gossips, were much more friendly when I showed and interest in them.

It did not take me long to notice how many of the ladies expected special favors of me, and after a bit of puzzling I realized that I, as Chuck's betrothed, was expected to choose a contingent of ladies to accompany me wherever I went. The queen, evidently, had the same idea. She summoned me to tea with her one chilly afternoon not long afterwards.

"You are the crown prince's fiancée," she said curtly. I noticed how displeased she still sounded at the idea, though she had done nothing to test me since our dinner with Chuck. "You will be queen one day, I suppose, and as such, you will be expected to have ladies-in-waiting. Now that the ladies of the court are here, you are free to choose."

"I thank you for your understanding, Your Majesty," I replied humbly. "Perhaps you could make a recommendation, as I know so little of the court ladies."

In truth, my recent observations of my callers, coupled with my extensive studies of the social register, had indicated several good choices, but I knew the queen would want at least one of her own ladies with me at all times. When she smiled, I knew I had given her exactly what she wanted. Whoever she recommended, I knew, would report everything I said back to the queen.

"Lady Theresa would be a good choice. She's a bit older than you are, and she knows nearly everyone in the court. She'll be able to help you get to know everyone you meet and choose your other ladies."

"She sounds like a wonderful choice, Your Majesty. If it please you, could you have her sent to me?"

The queen seemed quite pleased at her easy victory, though I was sure she at least suspected I knew her game. Still, she remained civil, if not wholly friendly, throughout the remainder of our tea, and I noticed how she no longer tried to catch me in some sort of inappropriate action. She had realized she could not beat me this way, which came as a relief. But I knew, and she knew I knew, that she had other strategies at work: Laurence's investigation and her new spy among my ladies.

Theresa was exactly what I had expected her to be. Striking in appearance, though not exactly beautiful, she was barely able to conceal her cold, calculating nature under a façade of simplicity. I couldn't tell if she genuinely liked me, but when I asked for advice on the ladies I had selected as possibilities for my company, she turned out to be most helpful.

I had no use for a large following, so I picked two younger women I had noticed during my frequent social calls. Jane was the third daughter of a deeply-indebted duke, at court on her own as her sister's illness kept her mother at home. She was as open and friendly as her face had indicated she would be, and even Theresa struggled to find anything objectionable in her. The other girl was Louise, whom I had difficulty noticing behind her mother's overbearing brashness. Once separated from the woman, however, Louise proved to be a sweet young thing, and as each day passed she grew more outspoken and self-confident. I soon considered them more friends than mere companions.

The one lady I was most eager to meet, Laurence's sister, did not appear at court, to my disappointment if not my surprise. Her I would have made a great effort to befriend, if only to spite her brother. But despite her dowered status, she remained at home, wherever home was. I wondered if Laurence had stopped back at home on his way to wherever he had gone and told his family about me. Part of me doubted he would: he was too secretive. Another part told me he would tell his sister everything, for he obviously loved her very much. I wondered what she was like, what color her hair was, if her eyes were gray like Laurence's, if here teeth were as white—

I stopped myself abruptly before that train of thought went too far and turned my attention back to my newfound friends. As luck would have it, they were discussing the knights of the court.

"Sir Michael is friendly enough," Jane was saying, "but he's nowhere near as handsome as Sir Thomas."

"Have you seen his smile? It's like sunshine," Louise argued.

"What of you, my lady?" Theresa asked. "Have you an opinion on any of these fine gentlemen?"

I smiled. "It would be most unfitting for a betrothed woman to speak so favorably of someone not her fiancé."

"Surely my lady's eyes have wandered a bit. One can admire a man for his beauty, as one would admire a fine work of art."

Her insistence grated on me. Canny she might be, but subtle she was not. "I find every man I've met here quite handsome," I agreed, "but none so attractive as my lord prince."

"Not even Sir Laurence?"

I stiffened and cursed myself for it. "I hardly know the man," I replied as evenly as I could. "He's been out of sight or away since we first met. I cannot say much about him."

Theresa made a quiet _hmph_, and the other two began asking me questions about Chuck: how he kissed, what he was like in private, what he liked to do, the kinds of things he said to me. I was only too happy to praise my beloved fiancé, meeting Theresa's eyes often enough that she would understand the warning in them.

_I love Chuck,_ my eyes said. _I love him, and I will marry him, and nothing you, or the queen, or Laurence will do can take that from me, because when I want something, I get it._

Theresa looked away, silent. _Good_, I thought. She understood.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh, middle of a story. I forgot how you are my nemesis. Can't every chapter be the beginning or the climax?<strong>

**I'm not 100% sure about that last bit, but I left it in because a.) the chapter needed an ending and b.) it's nice to see Elise interacting with normal people. She doesn't get to do that very often.**

**Here's some trivia for y'all: this story was initially supposed to be 8000-10000 words. We passed that about three chapters ago. Short stories, I do not write you. What was I thinking?**

**Until next week!**

**~Mazzie**


	11. Chapter 11

Many of the nobles, my newfound friends included, found the court proceedings quite entertaining. Whether they actually enjoyed spending hours in the throne room watching the king resolve legal disputes or whether they felt obliged to go, it was clearly the place to be. I was invited after two weeks, and I was very happy to go. Books could only teach me so much about running a kingdom, I thought; the rest I could learn only by observation. Besides, I knew Chuck would be pleased to see me there, and his mother certainly wouldn't. Naturally, I would attend.

It wasn't quite like I'd expected. Rather than sitting in rapt attention like I wanted to, the courtiers gathered in groups, socializing and giggling as if this were some sort of party. The central court was left clear for the long line of peasants here to bring their plaints before the king. Chuck's father sat on the throne, an ornately carved wooden chair, and Chuck and the queen sat in smaller chairs on either side. I caught Chuck's eye and gave him a smile. He relaxed visibly, and throughout the course of the session glanced frequently at me and smiled.

"He loves you," Jane murmured in my ear. "He can't stop looking at you."

I turned to her and smiled. "I'm lucky to have a man such as him."

'I hope one day a man will look at me that way," Louise said, staring pointedly at Michael where he stood before the throne.

"I'm sure one will, someday," I told her, before turning my attention back to the proceedings, where a man was complaining that his neighbor had harvested a bushel of wheat from his fields. The king listened first to the man, then to his neighbor, and ordered them to split the bushel between them. His decisions, I had noticed, were just, though often one party was not entirely pleased with it. _It's not about popularity_, I realized. _It's about being fair._

"Were your court proceedings in Belcampagnia much like this?" Theresa asked a few moments later. "You seem quite fascinated by them."

I refrained— barely— from frowning. "I am betrothed to the future king," I replied. "I should like to know how he runs his kingdom."

"Surely it can't be that different from your father's," she persisted.

"You must remember that I haven't been in my father's court for three years, and that when I was taken I was quite young," I said somewhat reproachfully. "I hardly paid a great deal of attention then, and it was so long ago."

"Of course. I understand, my lady."

_Let her report that to the queen_, I thought. _Let Her Majesty find something objectionable in it._

My friends, realizing that I wished to be left alone, continued their chatter behind me, and I was able to hone in on the proceedings before me. I had observed enough to predict the king's decisions and consider what my judgments would have been. I often found myself in agreement with him, though occasionally I would rule in the favor of a particularly sympathetic peasant.

A hand on my arm finally drew me back to my friends.

"We're going to have tea," Louise said. "This is almost over."

"Of course. Have I held you up? I must apologize." I glanced around the room and noticed it was emptying.

"Not to worry. One's first experience of court is something to be treasured. I would not want to take that from you."

I wondered about this. Court seemed more a social occasion than a judicial interest. And yet I had done very little socializing. Was Louise being catty? Was she another spy for the queen? Perhaps I was overanalyzing her words.

"Thank you— all of you— for your patience," I said. "Shall we go for tea in the garden?"

The weather had gone a great deal cooler, but today it was warm enough to be comfortable outdoors. Our tea was quite unremarkable until Chuck arrived with another lady in tow.

"Good afternoon, my ladies," he said with a low bow and a smile at me. "May I present Lady Mary Trinette, a good friend of mine?"

The lady curtsied. "It's so wonderful to be here with all of you," she said with a smile. "May I ask which of you is Princess Elise? I should dearly like to meet my good friend's betrothed."

I rose. "That would be me, my lady. With me are Lady Jane, Lady Louise, and Lady Theresa."

"We are acquainted, my lady, though I have not seen them for quite some time." She smiled winningly, though I blushed. She was a court lady, unlike me. Of course she would know my friends. Chuck's introduction had been a courtesy to me.

"Won't you join us?" I asked, gesturing to the table. At Chuck's nod, servants brought over two more chairs, and we adjusted ourselves to fit them at the table. Chuck settled between me and Mary and took my hand in his.

I sat quietly and listened as Mary caught up with the other ladies. She and Jane had once been good friends, I gathered, and she knew Louise somewhat, though she didn't appear familiar with Theresa except by name. What I was most curious about was her relationship with Chuck. He had called her an old friend, and he was more comfortable with her than I had ever seen him with anyone, including me. Who was she? How did they know each other?

Our tea long finished, the other ladies took their leave, and I was alone with Chuck and his friend. Mary now turned her attention fully on me.

"Chuck tells me you're quite the lady," she said. I couldn't determine if her cheeriness was genuine. "He says he's never met so determined a reader."

"I know nothing about this country," I explained. "I ought to know a good deal if one day I am to sit as its queen."

I watched her face as I said this, but she betrayed nothing. Had I judged her incorrectly? Did she truly have no intentions on Chuck?

She laughed. "You are certainly a good deal more diligent than most ladies of the court. Most of us planned to marry Chuck and have done with it."

_Us_, I thought. "Did many of you plan to marry Chuck?" I shot her a warning with my eyes. _Chuck is mine_.

"Doesn't everyone? He's the prince, and every woman dreams of being a princess. Of course, when he was younger he was much less frightened by girls."

I couldn't help but laugh, though Chuck was blushing furiously. "I have been trying to break him of that."

"You've done better than I. The only reason he talks to me at all is that I've known him all our lives. You've done in weeks what took me years."

"I am right here," Chuck stammered. "You needn't talk like I can't hear you."

I took his hand and squeezed it. "We're merely marveling at your progress, my lord. Surely you can't take offense at that."

He frowned. "I suppose I should be happy that you two are getting along so well. I had quite expected you to hate each other."

_We might yet,_ I thought.

Mary spoke before I had a chance to. "How could I ever hate anyone you intended to marry? Chuck, she's darling."

I smiled. "How could I dislike such a close friend of yours?"

"You don't seem too fond of Laurence."

My smile drooped. "Mary isn't trying to disprove everything I say," I said. "Are you?" I asked Mary.

She shook her head. "Why would I? Chuck's happy, and you two seem quite well suited."

I liked this woman, I decided. Another true ally in this court certainly couldn't hurt.

* * *

><p><strong>Congratulations, Mary, on being the first character with a last name.<strong>

**Hey, Mazzie, remember that one time you forgot to update for two days in a row and then you updated during class? Good times.**

**This chapter is not really edited, so, you know, if you find anything...**

**Drop a review s'il vous plait.**

**~Mazzie**


	12. Chapter 12

Mary was easily incorporated into my existing circle, and I found I still enjoyed her company as much as I thought I would. She had a way of bringing out the best in people, and before long she was as close friends with Jane, Louise, and even Theresa as she was with me.

"Have you read this entire thing?" she asked me one day after the others had left, indicating the social register.

"Not the whole thing," I defended myself. "I like to know who I'm talking to."

"You're amazing. I don't know anyone else who would do something like this."

I wondered what she'd think if she knew the other books I had read. "No one else here has to," I said, and her smile drooped a bit.

"I apologize," she said hastily. "I had forgotten you didn't grow up here."

I shot her a consoling grin. "That means I'm playing my role well. I'm glad to hear that."

Her smile returned in force. "Oh, good. I was so worried I'd insulted you. I often speak without thinking."

"One of your many charms, I'm sure. Men hate it when they think the woman they're talking to is plotting something."

"Is that why Laurence dislikes you so?" Mary asked.

Immediately I became suspicious. Was she trying to get something out of me? Was she working with Laurence? With the queen? Had I already said anything to incriminate myself?

"Laurence doesn't trust me," I replied carefully. "He thinks my intentions toward Chuck are less than honorable."

"Are they?" Her expression was more serious than I'd ever seen it. _She loves Chuck_, I realized then. Despite everything she said to the contrary, she was completely in love with him. I almost felt guilty for what I was doing. Almost.

I kept my face calm, but allowed a tear to shine in my eye. "Chuck loves me, and I love him." I was pleased by how smoothly the words came out. Perhaps this lie would come more easily for me as time went on. Perhaps I would be able to say it to Chuck before long. "I would marry Chuck if he weren't a prince, if he weren't wealthy, if he weren't even noble. He rescued me from a life alone in that tower. How else would I repay him? What more does he deserve?"

Mary's smile lit her face again, but I could see the pain behind her eyes. "I'm so glad you said that! I was worried Laurence was right—"

"You've talked to Laurence?" I interrupted.

"Of course. He's Chuck's friend, and mine, too. And I've been close with his sister since she was old enough to write."

"When did this happen?" Laurence had left before Mary had arrived, and hadn't returned yet, as far as I knew.

"We happened to stay at the same inn while I was on my way here. When he learned where I was going, he approached me."

"Did he say where he was going?"

She shook her head. "He didn't say much at all. Just that he was suspicious and that I should talk to you about it. He thought you might confide in me over him."

Laurence was using her, just like the queen was using Theresa, to get me to slip up. I was less sure that Mary was complicit in all this, and unsure as to what to think about that. On the one hand, she'd be more inclined to believe me than Laurence would be. On the other, being in love with Chuck, she would be a fearsome enemy if I were proved false.

"What _exactly_ did he say?" I asked, still trying to wrap my mind around the idea of Mary on Laurence's side.

"Just what you said. He thinks you only want to marry Chuck because he'll be king someday, and that you engineered your rescue so he would be the one to find you."

That was easy enough to explain. "That's preposterous!" I exclaimed, sounding suitably outraged. "I didn't even know civilization was that close to my tower. How could I have known Chuck would come for me?"

"That's what I said. But I thought I'd at least ask."

I sighed. "I know. I promise you, I never wanted any of this. I wanted to be rescued, of course, but never by a prince. Never by Chuck. I couldn't be any happier that it happened the way it did, but none of this was intentional. _None of it_."

"I believe you."

_If only Laurence were so easy to convince,_ I thought. Then I realized how urgently Mary had spoken, and I noticed how stricken she looked. She thought she had displeased me, lost her new friend. And she actually liked me enough to care.

"Mary, I'm not mad at you," I said, taking her hand. "If anything, I'm mad at Laurence. I'm tired of explaining myself to him. If Chuck and I had met any other way, none of this would be in question."

"Have you told him that?"

She would still relay this conversation to Laurence, I knew. I still couldn't trust her completely.

"He hasn't given me the opportunity," I told her, "but I've made myself clear."

She squeezed my hand. "I'm so glad you're not mad at me," she said. "I'll talk to Laurence for you, intercede on your behalf. I may not be able to convince him to stop, but I can tell him your good qualities. Once he sees how honest you are, how kind, how determined you are to be a good queen, he'll have to accept you."

I smiled, though I disagreed completely with her. Laurence already knew exactly how honest and kind I was, and to him, my determination to be a good queen as a threat, not a virtue. If Mary brought these arguments to him, he would at best laugh them off and at worst confront me again. I hated him for dragging her into this.

"I'm glad to have you as a friend," I told Mary. "It's wonderful to have someone like you by my side."

"I'm honored," she replied, and I knew she was, but not for the reason she should be.

Laurence returned only a few days after that, just in time for the first ball of the season. My ladies and I had spent hours in fittings in preparation, and I had been nervously studying books of popular dances and practicing in my chambers. I knew I could excuse myself by reminding the court that I was from a faraway country, where dances were undoubtedly different, but I hated using that as an excuse to be less competent than the other court ladies. Besides, such an excuse would invite demands for demonstration, which I was just as opposed to, though for different reasons.

"Don't worry," Jane told me the day of the ball, seemingly tired of my constant fidgeting. "You'll be fine. Everyone knows your story, and no one expects you to be perfect."

Theresa snorted. "She's the future queen of Ineria; of course they expect her to b perfect."

"It means nothing if you're not." Jane shot Theresa a reproachful glance, as if to say _You're not helping_. I couldn't help but smile.

"I'm not worried about being perfect," I told them. It was only partially a lie. "I simply don't want to make a fool of myself."

"If you're dancing with Chuck, you won't," Mary laughed. "He's a dreadful dancer. You'll appear most graceful next to him."

The other ladies looked suitably horrified at Mary's less-than-favorable description of Chuck. Not even the crown prince's closest friend should speak about him that way. I changed the subject to break the tension.

"I shall have to take your word for it. I know very little of balls and dancing."

"You didn't have _balls_ in Belcampagnia?" Theresa asked, horrified.

I restrained myself from rolling my eyes. "Of course we did. You must remember that I was merely fifteen when I was taken. I was too young to attend more than a few. Surely you ladies never attended a ball before you were fourteen or fifteen years old?"

They shook their heads, and I resisted the urge to smile triumphantly at Theresa. She was being quite tiresome today, and I was beginning to doubt I could keep her as one of my ladies for much longer.

As if sensing my irritation, Theresa bowed her head. "I apologize, Elise. I had no intention of offending you."

"Apology accepted," I said graciously. My true social debut was in only a few hours; negativity toward Theresa couldn't be allowed to ruin that. I took a deep calming breath. _I can do this_, I thought.

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, weird ending. Yes, there should be another chapter next week. <strong>

**I know it's NaNoWriMo. That does not mean there won't be updates on this story. I have the second half of the next chapter written, and probably the first third of the chapter after that. Hopefully, I should update for the next couple weeks, but I probably won't work on it until I've finished part one of APOP. And for those of you who read APOP, this is actually for serialz this time. I've made immense progress in the first week of NaNo and I should (*fingers crossed*) be done in the next week or so. So yes.**

**Anyway, props to you if you read all that, and drop a review if you would!**

**~Mazzie**


	13. Chapter 13

The ballroom was beautifully decorated in silver and blue, the colors of the realm. Candles lit everything and set the crystals in the chandeliers to sparkling, and I had to struggle to keep myself from marveling. _You are a princess,_ I told myself. _You see stuff like this all the time._

At first Jane and Louise stayed close by my side, but before long other lords of the court pulled them away in a whirl of skirts, leaving me alone with Mary, who, I sensed, was sacrificing her own enjoyment for my comfort, and Theresa, who merely wanted to ensure I was acting as a princess should. I was not overly disappointed when, after the first set of dances, an older man whisked her away.

We were overwhelmed with curious courtiers, mostly men who had been too busy or too proper to pay social calls on me previously and ladies of lower houses who had been too shy. Though I found it somewhat irritating to be talking when I could have been dancing, I told myself firmly that it was for the best: if anyone were to see how awkward my dancing was certain to be, they would know instantly that I was not who I said I was. Mary, however, was a different story.

"You may feel free to join the dancing, Mary," I said in a lull in the conversation. "You needn't stay here and keep me company."

"Oh, I'd much rather be here. Here is where all the interesting gossip is."

I didn't fully believe her; if Mary was one thing, a gossip was surely not it. But my questions were answered a few moments later when Chuck arrived at our circle, accompanied by none other than Laurence.

"My ladies," he said with a courteous bow, taking my hand in his and kissing it. His eyes never left mine, however, and in them was the same strange gleam I had noticed so often before. My stomach fluttered and my heart raced, and I thought ruefully that some things didn't change with time, no matter how much I wanted them to.

"Sir Laurence," I replied in like tone, pleased when my tension didn't show. "It has been quite some time."

"So it has, my lady."

"May I ask when you returned?"

"But three days ago, my lady."

"Quite a long trip."

"So it was." He frustratingly refused to say anything more, instead turning his attention to Mary before inviting her to dance and leaving me alone with Chuck.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, moving to stand closer to me, his arm around my waist.

"It's lovely," I replied, "though I haven't yet been asked to dance."

He gulped, and I cursed myself for ruining the moment. "I'm not a particularly good dancer," he warned me.

"I assure you, you're better than I am."

He snorted doubtfully, but led me onto the floor anyway. He was right: he was a dreadful dancer. He trod on my toes more times than I could count, apologizing and growing more flustered each time, which in turn made him even clumsier. Mary had not lied when she'd said I'd look graceful dancing with him. I caught several pitying glances and strove to look blissfully happy in spite of it all. They would not have the pleasure of gossiping over how miserable Chuck's dancing made me.

Every time I rounded a turn within view of Laurence, I could see him watching me. He knew something. Wherever he had gone, he had learned something about me that I was not sure I wanted him to know.

"Have you spoken with Laurence since he returned?" I asked Chuck.

He shook his head. "I asked him what he was looking for. He told me he had nothing to tell me."

"Most unusual. He had been so singleminded before." I smiled to relieve the malice in my words.

"Perhaps he found nothing."

I snorted, but before I could say anything else, the music ended, and Chuck and I pulled apart. We were soon surrounded by courtiers again, and I was asked to dance by a few other men, though every other dance I gave to Chuck.

Shortly after midnight, I retired, pleading a headache, though truly my feet were so sore from Chuck's constant stepping on them that I could hardly walk, let alone continue dancing. He wanted to accompany me back to my rooms, but I insisted he stay.

"You're the crown prince," I told him. "You're expected to stay. I will see you in the morning."

"Someone must escort you," he protested. "It would hardly be proper—"

"I'll escort her," Laurence piped up from behind me. I turned, astonished, to see a strange look in his eye. He wanted to talk to me.

Chuck was forced to agree, and he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek before I left. Though I was tempted to turn my head and give him a proper kiss, we were in polite company, and I would not risk his reputation to prove how in love we were.

Laurence waited until we were out of earshot of the ballroom in an empty hall before speaking.

"I have recently returned from investigating in the country," he said.

"I am aware," I replied, unwilling to let show that I was in any way concerned over what he might have found.

"Do you not want to know what I found?" He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Whatever you found, I can't imagine it will have any bearing on Chuck's feelings for me."

Something in Laurence snapped, and he turned and slammed me into the wall, trapping me between his arms. "I need you to listen very attentively to what I have to say," he whispered. "No plotting, no daydreaming. Just listen."

Too startled to say anything, I merely nodded.

"I haven't taken any of this to the queen yet, but I will. I wanted to give you a chance to explain first." His gray eyes were locked on mine, unblinking.

I swallowed and forced a smile. "So you're finally ready to even the playing field, are you?"

His expression darkened, and for a moment I thought he would hit me. "Do not take this lightly," he growled. His hand went to his pocket, and he pulled out a very familiar book.

"See this?" he asked, holding up my diary. "_This_ makes for fascinating reading. The sad, lonely thoughts of a girl trapped in a tower, wishing for freedom and recording her every thought in her diary. Oh, Elise. _This_ is sheer brilliance."

"I don't know what you're talking about, though I must protest that it was quite rude of you to steal my diary." I tried to sound flippant, but I could hear the panic in my voice, and I knew he could, too.

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. It all makes sense to me now. A young peasant girl, dreaming wealth, dreaming of power, dreaming of _safety_," his tone dripped sarcasm, and my face heated with anger at his mockery, "finds a tower and decides to recreate her entire life. She comes up with a backstory, writes a diary as proof, and waits. And lo! a handsome prince comes to her tower to rescue her, only he's not especially handsome at all, as it turns out. But he asks her to marry him, and then she has everything. Safety, wealth, and above all power. She'll be queen, and all she has to overcome is her utter disgust for her husband."

I was seething with rage at this point, so furious I could have slapped him, and he knew it as well as I did. I took a deep breath before I spoke, hoping to keep my voice steady.

"That's quite the speculation," I said. "If only you had proof."

A smile spread over his face, but it wasn't the open, friendly one he had given me that day in the library. This one was predatory, frightening. "Do you know what I found at your tower?"

I furrowed my brow, thinking. "Perhaps some clothing I left behind?"

He laughed, a harsh bark that I was quite certain wasn't his regular laugh. The panic I'd been fighting returned in force. "I found snares, my lady, snares a princess would never know how to make, not to mention a small garden in a clearing not far away. What business would a princess who never leaves her tower have with snares and a garden?"

"Is it really so unbelievable that I would know how to feed myself?"

"Not that you would know, no. But that Elise, a gently-bred princess, would...that is strange indeed."

He was right. I had trapped myself, and he had been the one to discover the snare. Even if it were possible to convince Chuck that I knew of such things, his mother would never believe me. The rest of the court would never believe me. As soon as Laurence took this to the queen, I would be destroyed.

So why hadn't he? Why come to me first? Why let me defend myself? Why not make this humiliation public?

All of a sudden, several things became very clear to me. The first was how very close Laurence was to me. I could feel the heat of his body as he trapped me against the wall, the breeze of his breath against my hair. Every time I'd caught him staring, every strange look in his eye, it all made sense now. The second thing I noticed was the sound of approaching footsteps. He hadn't won quite yet, but if I didn't act quickly, he would.

Despite how closely he watched me, he never saw what happened next coming. I leaned forward, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him.

Kissing Laurence was very different from kissing Chuck. His mouth was softer, his lips smooth rather than chapped, and his movements far less awkward. After only a moment he dropped his arms from the wall to wrap them around my waist and kiss me back. I forced myself not to notice how natural his hands felt there, how greatly he seemed to be enjoying the kiss, how _right_ it felt to kiss him, and instead focused on the approaching footsteps. As they rounded the corner, I moved my hands down onto his chest, and when I heard their owner's startled gasp I pushed Laurence away.

"Please," I sobbed to the frightened maid, "please, he forced himself on me, make him stop!"

I pulled myself away from Laurence and ran to hide behind her, still weeping. She immediately sent out a cry that summoned several guards and, eventually, Chuck and a crowd of eager onlookers. He clasped me to his chest as I sobbed out my story to him, that Laurence had cornered me here and started kissing me, refusing to stop despite my protests. I caught a glimpse of Laurence's face as the guards led him past. He looked shocked and, I thought, betrayed.

"It's all right, my love," Chuck murmured into my ear. "He won't hurt you again."

_You're right,_ I thought, but my triumph was less than satisfying, _he won't._

* * *

><p><strong><em>ELISE!<em>**

**So, yes. My apologies for last week. On the plus side, APOP part one is FINISHED. So that's exciting. For me.**

**Leave your rage in reviews, s'il vous plaît.**

**~Mazzie**


	14. Chapter 14

My ladies-in-waiting swarmed me the next morning, eager to hear all the details of what had happened and offer me their sympathies.

"What you must have been feeling!" Louise exclaimed. "To think one of Chuck's own personal guard would have done such a thing to you, someone he trusted so much—"

"Please," I said, distress that was not entirely feigned in my voice, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Of course," Jane said with a reproachful glance at Louise. "Let's talk of the ball instead. Sir Thomas asked me to dance _twice_."

I tuned out their chatter as we sat, embroidering. My eyes were burning from lack of sleep; I had tossed and turned most of the night, unable to fall asleep, my thoughts racing. What had I been thinking, doing that to Laurence? He could be executed for what he had supposedly done: assaulting the crown prince's betrothed was nothing short of treason. At the time I had thought it the only thing to do, but in retrospect…in retrospect there were other things I could have done.

I shook my head, clearing the dark thoughts away. I couldn't be feeling guilty about this, not now. I had to protect myself, and that was exactly what I had been doing when I had framed Laurence. Nothing more, nothing less. If our kiss hadn't meant anything else, I didn't have to feel guilty about it. And it hadn't, I told myself firmly.

After a while, the ladies realized how little I was paying attention and took their leave. Mary hung back anxiously and began speaking as soon as the door clicked shut behind the others.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she began, wringing her hands.

"I'm fine," I told her, my expression calm. "It was a shock, I'll admit, but not one I couldn't handle."

"You should talk to Chuck," she said. "I've never seen him so furious. To be betrayed like that, and by _Laurence_, of all people…I never would have thought it."

She was friends with Laurence, I knew, and I realized this had hurt her, too. Now she was torn between two sides: her childhood friend, or the man she loved and his fiancée. Glad as I was that she had chosen my side, I knew she must be struggling.

"Did he say anything to you?" I asked.

"He wouldn't. I asked him to talk to me but he wouldn't. _Me, _his best friend since childhood! I know he'll talk to you, Elise. Maybe you can talk sense into him."

"Talk sense into him?"

"He wants Laurence dead, or he says he does. But killing Laurence would rip him apart. They've been friends for so long, and Laurence has always been loyal…I wouldn't believe it at all if it hadn't been you!"

I didn't respond for a moment as I processed everything Mary had just told me. Chuck wanted Laurence executed? I had never thought he would do something like that, especially not to someone he trusted and respected as he did Laurence. Then her last sentence hit me. What did she mean, "if it hadn't been me"? That she trusted me, believed I was honest? Or that she couldn't imagine Laurence kissing anyone _but_ me? Did he feel something for me? Had he told Mary about it?

"I have to talk to him," I murmured.

"He's in his solar. He's been there all day, pacing. Please, Elise, please go to him," Mary pleaded.

It took me a moment to realize we were talking about two different people. I nodded and took my leave.

"If you cant talk him out of this, you will have done more for him than I have ever been able to in my entire life," she said before she left.

"I'll try my best," I replied, and she thanked me before disappearing down the hall.

I approached Chuck's solar nervously. If what Mary had said was true, he was absolutely furious, and I didn't know if I could contend with him in a mood like that. What if she had been wrong, and he thought I was the one who had betrayed him? Would he then want me executed? Would all my work have been for nothing?

He was pacing when I opened the door, and the shards of pottery on the floor indicated he'd been in a throwing mood. At my entrance, he looked up, his fury-dark eyes boring into me for a moment before he realized who it was. Then his expression softened and he rushed to my side.

"Are you all right?" he asked. I was getting heartily sick of that question, but the open, honest concern on his face brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't remember the last time anyone had cared this much about me.

"I'm fine. Really, Chuck, it wasn't that bad. It was just a kiss."

"A kiss that left you in tears, begging for mercy," he growled, his eyes darkening again.

"It wasn't like that, Chuck. I was afraid of what he would do to me, of what you would think, and that's why I was so upset. He didn't do anything to harm me."

His brow furrowed as he tried to puzzle out why I was defending the man I had been so happy to denounce the night before.

"I wasn't myself," I hastened to explain. "I was hysterical, and now that I've had time to calm down and sleep, I've realized that Laurence hasn't done anything horrible enough to warrant execution."

The confusion melted from his face. "Mary's talked to you."

"Of course she has. She's your friend and she's worried about you. She thought you might listen to me."

"I listened to you last night, and that's the cause of all this. When I saw how distraught you were…God, Elise, I've never seen you cry like that. You're always so confident, but last night you just looked terrified, and I never want to see that look in your eyes again. If I have to kill Laurence to protect you, I will."

I walked over to him and embraced him, resting my head against his chest. He wasn't the perfect fit to my body that Laurence had been, I thought briefly before I pushed the thought away, but something in this felt right.

"I don't need your protection, at least not against Laurence," I said quietly. "You know him better than I do; you know he wouldn't do something like that. What happened last night was a moment of weakness, not something worthy of execution. He's one of your closest friends, Chuck. If you kill him, what happens to you?"

He pulled away enough to look down at me. "I thought you hated Laurence."

I shook my head. "I respect him, because he is the most loyal man I have ever met. If he trusted me the way you do, I might even like him. His constant second-guessing of everything I say is…irritating, to say the least. But he does it all out of love for you, and I cannot hate someone who loves someone I love that much."

"I can't figure out what it is you want," he confessed after staring at me quite intensely for a long moment. "Do you want him released now, his crime forgiven?"

I shook my head. "He still assaulted me, Chuck. If we were any lesser rank he would have to marry me. Obviously that's not possible, but he still deserves punishment. I only ask that you let him live."

"Is that all?" His expression told me nothing would displease him more.

"A fair trial, then. Before the court." The queen would never let Chuck execute Laurence, not when he had been working for her to expose me. It was a desperate measure, but one I hoped would be effective.

"I don't want you there. I don't want this paraded before the court like some—"

"I'll stay away, then, and protect my dignity. Please, Chuck. He's your closest friend. Don't do this to him."

He frowned, but nodded. "Very well. A fair trial. But if execution is the sentence, you must accept it."

Had I done Laurence any good? I wondered as I agreed. Perhaps not. But at the very least I could relieve my conscience by telling myself that I had tried.

* * *

><p><strong>Elise, you're slipping...<strong>

**(Slightly) early update! My friend, who I had no idea even read this story, actually wrote on my Facebook wall and asked me to update. So before I knock myself out with Nyquil, a new chapter.**

**Drop a review if you would.**

**~Mazzie**


	15. Chapter 15

After three more sleepless nights and long, grueling days of feigned sympathy and concern, I had had enough. I couldn't decide which of the two was more tiring: the endless stream of well-wishers or the tormented nights of tossing and turning. I had all but given up on sleep, spending my nights instead poring over my recently-returned diary in an attempt to discover what, exactly, Laurence had found in it. It read as it always had: insipid and shallow, full of dreams of handsome princes and rescues.

_Oh, innocent little Elise,_ I thought ruefully, _what would you think of the mess you're in now?_

The Elise who had written this diary would have been a sobbing wreck after what had happened. The Elise who had written this diary would never have _allowed_ what had happened to happen. She would have been sweet and guileless, hopelessly in love with Chuck and hopelessly trusting of Laurence. And he never would have touched Elise if she had been like that.

But I wasn't like that, not anymore. I was the strong Elise, the one who took her fate in her own hands, the one who pulled the ivy from her tower so someone would see it and find her, the one who could lie with her lips and her body so well that she could send an honorable man to prison. I may not have been proud of the Elise I was, but at least I was the Elise I needed to be.

Strong Elise would have accused Laurence and walked away unscathed. Weak Elise was tormented with guilt over what she had done, and for that I hated her.

Court— and, by extension, Laurence's trial— was two days away when it hit me. Laurence had brought up my diary, but he had never explained what was in it. Nights of searching had brought me no closer to understanding what he had found than I had been when he had taken it. And there had to be more evidence He had gone to the tower months ago, I knew it, but what had he found in the court records? Where had he gone? To verify this information? With whom? And _what _information?

I scolded myself. If I hadn't been acting like such an enamored child, I would have seen this days ago. Now I only had two nights to get the information out of him. If Laurence was anything like me— if he was anything like a normal human being, he would use the information he had on me to discredit me. If he brought it up in court, their attention would be shifted to me and my lies, and he would go free. Even an eyewitness to our...interelude...would't be enough to protect me. If I was a liar, he hadn't done anything wrong. And I would be the one getting my head cut off.

It was after midnight, but I didn't care.I wasn't sleeping tonight anyway. I dressed in a simple gown, one I could put on without help, and slipped out of my room and down toward the dungeons. I didn't know exactly where they were, but I guessed _down_ and followed my instincts until I came to a dark hallway with a single guard posted at the far end. My quiet cough roused him from his doze.

"My lady!" He seemed surprised to see me. "What are you doing down here at this time of night?"

"I wish to see him," I said, and when the man looked confused, I added, "I need to see him punished for what he did to me."

That seemed a suitable excuse, so he allowed me past and respectfully moved far enough down the hallway that he wouldn't be able to overhear.

Laurence looked utterly miserable. The cell he was in was, at least, clean and stone-floored, but I could smell the bucket he'd been given as a privy from where I was, and I imagined the straw pallet he was lying on was infested with lice.

"Laurence," I said by way of announcing myself. "What's your other evidence?"

He laughed, a dry, creaky sound that told me he had barely spoken since he'd been thrown in here. "And here I thought you'd come to apologize."

"Would you like an apology?"

He sat up, and I noticed then that his hands were shackled together. "I would hope you wouldn't be stupid enough to ruin that brilliant move with an apology."

I raised an eyebrow, and he laughed again, though there was no joy in it. "Don't deny it was brilliant," he said, then coughed to clear his throat. "In one move, you removed me permanently as your only obstacle to Chuck. I can't even stop marveling at it long enough to be angry at you."

I didn't believe him. He was clearly furious, just more subtly than he had been in the past. But now wasn't the time to worry about his feelings. I returned to the subject at hand. "What's your other evidence?"

"How do you know there is any?"

I gave an exasperated sigh. "You went to the tower months ago. You would have found the garden and the snares then. It doesn't explain what you found in the court records, or where you've been for the past six weeks, or what you claim to have found in my diary."

"That bothers you, does it? Now you know how I feel."

I could have slapped him, but the bars kept me too far away. "Tell me, Laurence. The court's never going to believe you anyway, so you might as well have your moment of triumph now."

He was silent for a moment, and I spent it studying him. His hair was loose and greasy, his jaw shadowed by stubble, and even in the dim light I could see the dark circles under his eyes. Prison had not been kind to him.

"You first," he said.

I blinked, startled both by his sudden speech and by his demand. What did it matter what I had to say? He seemed to think he had it all figured out, and for all I knew, he did.

Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe he was bluffing, trying to get me to reveal myself to him in a moment of weakness so he could expose me before the court. Perhaps, rather than stopping him, I had merely delayed him by having him imprisoned. Perhaps this had been his plan all along.

"Prove you know something," I said. "The snares and the garden don't count. That was months ago. Tell me what you were looking for."

"I hardly think I need to tell you anything. Snares and a garden were enough to make you so desperate you disposed of me. Why should I tell you the stronger evidence?"

"Why should I believe you have it?"

We were at a deadlock. I refused to tell him anything until he told me what he knew, and he was torn between keeping the upper hand and wanting to prove himself right. I needed his information more than he needed mine, I decided.

"The diary," I said. He raised an eyebrow curiously. "You said my diary made for interesting reading, but you never explained why. Tell me."

He laughed again, and I found myself becoming heartily sick of his derision. "You've been scouring that thing for days, haven't you, looking for what I found? You won't find it. It's too obvious."

"So what is it?" He was gloating. He shouldn't have been. He was the one in prison; I was the one who had put him there. If anyone had the right to gloat, it was me.

He leaned against the wall with carefully-feigned casualness. "Tell me, _Elise_—" my name was a sneer— "why would a girl who writes in her diary every single day, even when nothing happens, suddenly stop writing?"

"Perhaps because someone _stole_ _her diary_," I suggested with a pointed glance at him.

He wasn't amused. "I'm not talking about the last few months, _Elise_. I'm talking about six weeks of silence while you were in that tower, supposedly doing nothing."

"I was very sick."

"So you said. Too sick to write. Surely too sick to take care of yourself. How did you survive that, all alone in your tower?"

"I don't know. It was a miracle," I said weakly. He knew it was a lie.

"A miracle, yes, so you said. Six weeks and three ripped out pages, and then you're back to your cheery self, talking about the weather and your fond memories of your family. Something about that doesn't ring true."

"But the rest of the diary does?" Perhaps if I put him on the defensive, he wouldn't notice if I evaded his questions.

"The rest of the diary is not that interesting." He shifted to stand right in front of me, leaning into torchlight that allowed me to see his face for the first time. It was dirty and somehow leaner, though how much of that could be attributed to his new-grown beard and the flickering light I didn't know. His eyes, however, were as bright as they ever had been, that dangerous glint pinning me. "What did the ripped out pages say?"

I swallowed, and his eyes jumped to my throat. He had me, and now he knew it. A slow smile spread across his face.

"I— I needed the paper for something," I answered weakly.

"You needed three sheets of paper _one_ time in three years?"

"I ran out of other paper, didn't I? Three years is a long time." I sounded defensive and petulant, but I couldn't stop myself.

"What did you need the paper for?"

I opened my mouth to answer, closed it again. He laughed.

"My lady?" the guard called from the end of the hallway. I had forgotten he was there. "Is everything all right?"

"Fine," I replied coolly, my eyes trained on Laurence, daring him to contradict me. "I was just leaving."

His laughter followed me out of the dungeon, and even when I fell into a fitful sleep I could still hear it mocking me.

* * *

><p><strong>You two.<strong>

**I apologize for the last couple of weeks. Finals hit me like a train (4 finals and 2 papers in 2 days) and I was unable to finish writing this chapter. Hopefully with break upon me I'll be able to update every week again and maybe even build up a nice buffer.**

**Your reviews are much appreciated, even if I don't reply to them; I have a long, horrific day in front of me and I just can't muster the necessary energy to do replies. **

**Anyway, drop a review if you can, and I wish you all a very Merry Christmas (or whatever holiday you may celebrate this time of year)!**

**~Mazzie**


	16. Chapter 16

I decided against visiting Laurence the next two nights. Being seen going to visit him— and I had no doubt the guard had already told everyone he knew about my late-night visit— would only hurt my cause, no matter what my excuse was. Instead I spent the nights trying desperately to fall asleep, to no avail. What did Laurence know? Had he told the queen any of it? Did he plan to? What would she do to me when she found out the truth?

At times I wished the trial would go terribly for him, that the sentence would, indeed, be execution. He'd be out of my way then, permanently, any hints he'd gathered about my past dead with him. But then I'd remember the feel of his arms around me, his lips on mine, the look of utter betrayal as he'd been led away, and every desire for his death vanished. My emotions had betrayed me, I was able to realize in moments of clarity, but though I railed against them, reminding myself of what Laurence was trying to do, they wouldn't dissipate. If Laurence died, some part of me would die, too.

The day before the trial, I finally snapped at my ladies-in-waiting. I was so tired of their pitying glances, their insipid chatter as they tried to distract me, Theresa's sniping, Louise's gushing, and even Jane's well-meaning comfort. Everything they said and did had begun to feel condescending, and that combined with my frustration and exhaustion pushed me over the edge.

"Get out!" I cried, after Theresa sniffed haughtily for the fifth time. "All of you! I can't take another _minute_ of this!"

They all looked up, shocked and, at least on Theresa's part, pleased. Jane reached toward me, undoubtedly to take my arm or rub my shoulder or something similarly soothing, but I jerked away.

"Please go," I said, more quietly this time. "I need to be alone."

Surprisingly, no one questioned me, not even Theresa, and within a minute they had all gathered their things and left the room. Mary was the last to go, looking back at me as I left, and I remembered that she was my only true ally.

"Mary," I called after her, "stay."

"What's wrong?" she asked when she had returned to my side.

I tried my best to explain. "I can't put up with them anymore," I told her honestly. "They alternate between pitying me and acting like I'm not here."

"They don't know how to treat you."

"I'm not going to burst into tears at any moment! I just want things to be normal again."

My emotions bested me once again, belying my words with sudden, unwanted tears.

Mary wrapped her arms around me and gently pulled me to her chest. "They will be," she said. "Tomorrow is Laurence's trial, and then all of this will be over, one way or another. Then you can focus on your wedding properly."

The wedding. I hadn't thought about that for a long time. Being married to Chuck, being his queen, kissing him, bearing his children, never once letting on that I didn't, in truth, love him. Far from making me feel better, the subject only added to my stress.

"Can I skip the wedding?" I asked. "Can't Chuck and I just be married, without all the to-do?"

Mary laughed. "It won't be that bad, I promise. I'll be with you the whole time, and so will the others. They'll understand how upset you are and forgive you. In two days it'll be as if none of this ever happened."

I wished I could be so sure.

I slept fitfully that night. Every sound made me jump, expecting Laurence's dagger at my throat, his voice in my ear. When I finally did sleep I dreamed of kissing him, of Chuck discovering us, of Mary crying and Laurence's head rolling down the marble steps of the ballroom. I woke gasping before my own could follow it.

The light outside was still the pale grey of predawn, but I knew already I would get no more sleep. Instead I rose, wrapped myself in a dressing gown, and ventured out onto the cool balcony to watch the sun rise. The cool air helped clear my head, and I pondered what, if anything, I could do. I had already promised Chuck I would avoid the trial itself, but I wondered if I should go to him a second time to plead for mercy for Laurence. Part of me desperately wished to; the other part told me sternly that begging for Laurence a second time would make me look too eager to save him, and Chuck would begin to suspect that there was something more to the kiss than what I had told him.

_Which there wasn't!_

I had talked to Chuck, as had Mary. Laurence had his own wits and the queen's protection. I hoped it would be enough to keep him alive.

My maids seemed surprised when they arrived two hours later to find me already awake. They apologized profusely for not attending me earlier, but I waved them off.

"It will be all right, milady," one of them said, patting my arm gently. "He'll pay for what he's done to you."

I smiled at her, but it felt strained even to me. I sat patiently while they fashioned my hair and powdered my face, paying special attention to the dark circles under my eyes. I looked as good as I ever had, but for a brief moment I wished I could simply pull my hair back into a single braid and wash off the powder. Just once, I would like to be as unconcerned with my appearance as I had been before Chuck found me. But I never could again.

I dismissed my maids soon after they finished me, picked at the breakfast they had brought, and then went back out onto the balcony. Court didn't even start for nearly another hour, but I was as on-edge as if it were already in progress. It seemed like days passed before the bells rang to summon everyone, and I only narrowly resisted the urge to go anyway, promise be damned. Instead I paced, my hands clenched at my sides until the muscles in them ached so I wouldn't tear out my hair. When a maid entered with a tray for lunch, I barely kept myself from grabbing her and begging her to tell me what was happening.

"Do you know what's going on at court?" I asked instead, my voice as calm as I could make it.

She shook her head frantically and darted out before I could dismiss her. Perhaps I hadn't controlled myself as well as I thought I had. It was too late for regrets now, and my actions could be explained later. I swallowed a scream of frustration. Why wouldn't anyone just _tell _me what was happening?

The next few hours were an interminable blur of pacing and squeezing various pieces of fruit on my lunch tray until the juices ran down my arm, then washing them off in the water basin in the corner. It became a ritual: grab a peach, pace while squeezing it, feel the juice dripping off my fingers, drop the fruit off the balcony, wash my hands, repeat. I concentrated on the different feel of each type of juice, on how many steps it took to break a peach, a grape, an apple. It kept my mind off Chuck and Mary and Laurence and the trial.

Finally, _finally_, just when I thought I could stand it no longer, Mary burst in without knocking and threw herself at me.

"Oh, Elise, you did it!" she squealed.

"What happened?" I asked, dropping the plum in my hand as I pulled away. "How did the trial go?"

"It was _awful!_ Chuck kept saying all these things and Laurence wouldn't even defend himself, not a word, and I wanted so desperately to scream at him to do _something_, but he just kept staring at Chuck, and Chuck kept getting madder and madder until finally he just ordered Laurence to say something, and Laurence simply asked what Chuck wanted him to say, and Chuck said, 'Did you kiss her?' and Laurence just said, 'Yes, I did,' and Chuck asked why and he wouldn't answer and finally he asked Laurence if should just kill him, and Laurence just looked him in the eye and said, 'I think you should do whatever would make Elise happy,' and then Chuck had no response to that, but the king said Laurence was exiled. He leaves at dawn."

I let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling all the tension drain out of my body and leave me exhausted. "Thank God it was only exile."

"If you hadn't gone to Chuck it would have been beheading for sure! Thank you, Elise. I can't tell you what this means to me." Tears sparkled in Mary's eyes.

I pulled her back into my arms. "Where is he?" I asked, not sure if I meant Chuck or Laurence.

Mary decided for me. "Out in the gardens. He likes to be outside when he's stressed, and since he can't leave to go hunting with you here…"

"Of course. Thank you, Mary. For everything."

I kissed her on the cheek and left my room in search of Chuck.

* * *

><p><strong>*hides behind wall until everyone has run out of projectiles*<strong>

**So...a lot of stuff has gone down in the past six months. Well, not really a lot. I had some family stuff in December, and then it was Christmas break, and I was going to start writing as soon as I got back to school, but then...let's just say don't take four literature classes in one semester, especially when three of them are not in English. It doesn't matter if the other one is a Harry Potter class. The More You Know.**

**But yes, here we are, and _hopefully_ we can have regular updates this summer until I finish. We'll see.**

**Drop reviews, because reviews are awesome!**

**~~Mazzie~~**


	17. Chapter 17

I was so lost in thought that it wasn't until I had stepped outside that I realized it was raining. The cold drizzle, while not enough to soak through my clothes, chilled me to the bone, and I wished I had thought to grab a cloak or even a shawl to throw over my gown. Hardly had I considered going back up to my chambers to dress more appropriately when I caught a glimpse of Chuck in the distance and knew I had to go after him instead.

I called out to him three times before he finally heard me and slowed down— he moved very quickly when agitated, I was learning. Something in his stricken face prompted me to embrace him tightly as soon as I reached him, and I repressed a faint smile as the tension melted out of his warm body.

"Mary told me what happened," I said softly after a moment. "I wish I could have been there with you."

Chuck tensed up again immediately. "He wouldn't say a word," he growled into my ear. "Not a goddamn word, not even in his own defense. He just stood there and _stared_ at me the whole time, and I couldn't—"

He broke off, still too angry to speak. I pulled back and looked him in the eye.

"You did the right thing," I told him firmly. "You could have had him executed, let him get to you, but you didn't. Now he's leaving in the morning and you'll never have to see him again. It's over."

My own words hit me then. _It's over._ No more Laurence, no more evidence, no more worrying about slipping up. _Unless he tells the queen what he knows,_ a treacherous voice in my head whispered, but I ignored it.

"I just don't understand," Chuck was saying. "Laurence has been so strange since he got back. After his first trip he was so eager to tell me what I had found, but then when he got back last week he only told me he had found something, but he had to wait to tell me. It was so unlike him, I remember thinking, but I thought maybe he was finally coming around, and then he kissed you, and that certainly wasn't like him, and then he offered no evidence at his own trial…"

"Shh," I soothed him, running my fingers over his cheek. My mind was racing over what he had said. I knew about the first evidence— the snares and the garden, perhaps even my diary, all evidence Chuck had refused to hear. But I still wasn't clear on what the second bit of evidence was; all I knew was that it involved the court records and a six-week journey, both of which Laurence had refused to tell me about. I hadn't realized he had refused to tell Chuck as well. What was he waiting for? What was so important he wouldn't even bring it up to save himself?

"You're shivering," Chuck said suddenly, really looking at me for the first time. "Why don't you have a cloak?"

I smiled up at him, my sheepishness not entirely feigned. "I didn't look at the weather all day, and once I got out here and saw you, I decided talking to you was more important."

His eyes flickered, and then he bent his head and kissed me, more forcefully than he usually did. My first thought was, oddly, that kissing in the rain wasn't nearly as romantic as I would have thought, but then I noticed how much more enjoyable kissing Chuck had become. Perhaps he was getting better at kissing, or perhaps I was simply more used to kissing him now; I couldn't tell which. Either way, it boded well for our future.

"Let's get you inside," he said when he pulled away. "Some dry clothes for both of us, I think, and a warm fire and some hot tea. All this nonsense with Laurence is finally over, and soon the wedding preparations will be in full swing—" I shuddered at his words, only partially because of the cold, and he laughed— "so we should enjoy this break while we can."

A half hour later I met Chuck in his solar. He and I had both opted for comfort in our attire: he was wearing a simple shirt and breeches like he had at the hunting lodge, and my plain gown and heavy-knit shawl complemented the simplicity of my braided hair. I felt at ease with my appearance fore the first time in months, and from the smile on Chuck's face when he saw me, he felt the same way.

"I'd forgotten what you look like out of your fancy court clothes," he said, flushing a moment later as he realized what he'd said.

I laughed and waved away his apology— now wasn't the time for propriety— and soon we were nestled on the thick rug before the fire, drinking the strong tea a maid had brought in. Without the threat of Laurence hanging over us, we were able to talk more easily than we had since before his second departure, and soon we were laughing over court gossip and discussing our respective lives in a way we never had before. Before long our tea had gotten cold, and we were sitting pressed together, his arm around my waist and my head resting on his shoulder. It was so warm and comfortable that I felt myself start to drift off.

"Let's skip the wedding," I murmured. When Chuck turned to look at me and raised an eyebrow, I smiled up at him and explained. "Let's just find a priest and get married now, and then we'll be married and no one can do anything about it."

He laughed, his voice sounding deeper than usual now that my ear was pressed against him. "I think my mother would have something to say about that. She'd probably make us do it again anyway, just to be proper."

"We'll say no."

"She won't like that at all."

"I suppose it would be best not to anger her."

"That it would."

I laughed under my breath before we slipped back into companionable silence. I tried to remember the last time I had been this comfortable, no worries about exposure and exile or execution, no concern about keeping Chuck comfortable around me, no comparisons between him and Laurence. Just us, together. I reached into his lap and grabbed his other hand, squeezing it tightly and smiling when he squeezed back.

_If this is what being married to Chuck is like,_ I thought, _I can do that quite happily._

"We should get you up to bed before you fall asleep here," Chuck said quietly. "Imagine the scandal if I were to carry you up to your room in my arms."

"The last thing I need is another scandal," I replied, pulling away. I missed his warmth immediately.

His face darkened, but the flash was gone before I could take back my words. Instead he stood and pulled me to my feet.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"If I can get away from my ladies," I said with a smile. "I'm sure they'll want to gossip about…everything that's happened."

"Send for me if they annoy you too much, and I'll rescue you."

I moved in to kiss him goodnight— when had it gotten so late?— but instead of meeting my lips, Chuck planted a gentle kiss in my finally-dry hair. It was almost fraternal in its familiarity, but I found I didn't mind. Maybe we didn't always have to be romantically affectionate, I realized as I wound through the halls on the way to my bedchamber. Sometimes comforting contact was enough.

* * *

><p><strong>So, um, hi. This has actually been written for almost a year, but I didn't post it because I wasn't really comfortable with it? At the time it felt kind of out of character, but since then it's been sitting on my computer and now it seems okay so.<strong>

**(You guys should prostrate yourselves before Captain Fantastic, who told me to "just post it" while we were "writing". And...here it is.)**

**Hopefully, this is not a thing that happens again?**

**~Mazzie**


	18. Chapter 18

As drowsy as I was, I forced myself to stay awake until late in the night, when my servants had all gone to bed and midnight was long past. As I had once before, I rose, dressed myself, and slipped into the hallway, this time making for Laurence's chambers.

I kept myself out of sight, passing only two or three guards, none of whom were looking for anyone wandering the halls. When I reached Laurence's door, I pushed it open without knocking.

Laurence's face split into a mocking grin the instant I walked through the door.

"Come to make sure I haven't said anything to the queen?" he asked, but the usual edge in his tone was missing. He looked less the conquering hero and more the beaten down man, haggard and dark-eyed. He was tired, and I felt a brief pang of pity for him.

"I know you haven't said anything to the queen," I told him matter-of-factly. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Yes," he said, almost sadly, "you are."

I couldn't quite meet his eye, so I looked around the room instead. Everything was in shambles, things tossed haphazardly into a variety of trunks by someone with much to pack, little time, and no help.

"Why are you really here?" he asked after a long moment of silence.

I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it again. Why _was_ I here? Why had I decided I needed to talk to Laurence so badly?

"You should know Chuck's really upset," I said finally.

"He's been upset this entire time."

"He doesn't want you to go."

"I don't have to. You could tell him the truth."

I froze, feeling as cold and wet as I had after the rain today. "I can't," I murmured.

"Elise—"

"I can't!"

He gave me that look again, and this time I recognized it. Pity. _He knows._

I took a deep breath, deciding which question to ask.

"How did you know?" I said finally, locking eyes with him and refusing to look away.

He put down the shirt he'd been folding and met my gaze. "Your story about the drunkard you were to marry. It sounded familiar."

I drew in a sharp breath. "The court records."

He nodded. "You had no way of knowing."

He was right, of course. But I should have seen it, should have guessed. I knew them, had known them all my life. _Court records._ Of course they'd come to the king.

"You went to them," I said. My voice somehow remained steady. "What did you tell them?"

The pity was back in his eyes, damn him. "I only asked questions as if I were following up on their case. What you looked like, how educated you were, what you were like."

I stared hard at him, and he kept my gaze without flinching. He was telling the truth, at least mostly. I allowed myself to relax, just a bit.

"What does the queen know?"

"Nothing. Except what she can put together from the court records and my disappearance. But she doesn't know about your engagement, so she wouldn't know what to look for."

"You didn't tell her anything? Why not?"

He shrugged. "She never visited me in person. Not like you. And I don't trust the discretion of messengers."

"So what was your plan? You wouldn't go to the queen to save yourself, or speak up at your own trial."

"I came to you first."

"_Why?_"

He swallowed and lowered his gaze. "You had said things, about yourself, about you and Chuck, and Chuck was so happy and so comfortable with you. I thought maybe… maybe you should stay."

I shot him an incredulous look. "_That's_ why you came to me first? _That's_ why you wouldn't defend yourself? Good God, Laurence! If you'd just told me—"

"If I'd told you, you would have assumed I was bluffing to get the truth out of you!"

I had no response to that, so I turned back to the topic at had. "So what exactly _does_ the queen know?"

"She's seen the diary. She doesn't believe it's real. But she doesn't know what to make of the missing pages; I still don't." He looked at me expectantly.

"But you know everything else," I said, avoiding his question. "Tell me."

He rolled his eyes at my evasion, but began all the same. "You ran away a year and a half ago. You found the tower, cleaned it up, and moved in. You were prepared to live there— the garden, the snares— but you changed your mind. You created a whole personality, started a diary, dated it two years previous, and then… I don't know, ran out of pages before you could catch up to where you had started." He shook his head. "That's not right. You're smarter than that, but it's the only explanation I can think of. And it doesn't explain the missing pages."

He was looking at me again, waiting for me to explain. I swallowed. My last secret. _Should I give it up?_ I wondered.

"Where did I get everything?" I asked. "The gowns, the books, court etiquette?"

He shot me a knowing glance. "The books were old, some of them moldy, all of them outdated. They could have been already in the tower. There's a village a day's walk from the tower; you could have bought supplies there, traded vegetables or snared game. Simple."

"I bought the diary there as well, I suppose? They sell things like that there?"

"It's not impossible."

"Unlike the books."

"Those are possible, too."

"But unlikely."

"What are you trying to get at?" The exhaustion was gone from his face, replaced by excitement.

I took a deep breath. "The books were left in the tower," I said slowly. _I'm going to regret this_. "What if the diary was, too?"

He froze, staring hard at me. I took a deep breath and began reciting what I had memorized long ago.

"_Dear Diary,_

_"I cannot take this waiting anymore. I have been in this tower near two years with not even a sign of life around me besides the animals of the forest. I am dying of loneliness and I must seek out humanity. Too long have I waited in this tower. I must get away._

_"I shall leave on the morrow, Diary, and leave you here behind me. Perhaps someday some knight of my father's court will find this book, and I should like my family to know what has become of me. _

_"Farewell, Diary, and thank you for being such a loyal companion to me over the past two years. I shall never meet your like again."_

He raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

"She left," I explained. "Obviously. I had to get rid of that one, or how would I explain my presence?"

"You came back."

"After six weeks? Would you have believed that at all?"

"More than a miraculous recovery from a deadly illness? Certainly. That accounts for one page; what of the others?"

The temptation. The opportunity. I took a deep breath and began reciting again.

"_To whomever may find this diary,_

_"This is the account of Elise, princess of Belcampagnia, kidnapped by night from her home and imprisoned in a tower. If word can be sent back to my family that they may know what happened to me, by all means send it. Perhaps Elise will be a missing loved one they wish to hear from, or perhaps a lost legend, a mystery finally solved._

_"If, instead, you are merely a person who has stumbled upon this tower from sheer luck and not a knight searching for me, perhaps you can take my story. Take the story of Elise and make it the fairy tale it was meant to be. Finish the diary. Give her her prince, her happy ending. Let the story become legend, let every child know Elise's name. And wherever I am, I will thank you, Stranger, for bringing my story to a close._

"That was ripped out and placed on top of the diary," I told him. "I memorized it and burned it. I didn't know what else to do."

"You expect me to believe you didn't jump at the chance to be a princess?" Laurence asked incredulously.

I shrugged. "Not at first. I thought it was just some strange little story I'd never know the end to. And then… it came to me. No one had to know Elise had gone anywhere. No one knew who Elise was, what she looked like. Elise could be me. I could be Elise. So I tore out the farewell entry and burned it, and then I took a last leaf of paper to practice mimicking her handwriting until I could do it perfectly. And then—"

"And then you were Elise."

"And then I was Elise."

"And what would you have done if no one had ever found you?"

"Exactly what Elise did. I would have left. I was only meant to stay a night in the tower, to shelter from the rain that night. But it was a good place, and I could have lived there quite happily— did, for a year— without ever seeing another person. Chuck was… a surprise."

"Elise—"

"Moira," I interrupted. "Might as well call me by my true name."

"Moira," he corrected himself, then seemed at a loss for words.

Silence fell again, and he stared at me long and hard before busying himself packing again.

"Where are you going?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He shrugged. "Home first, to say goodbye to my mother and sister. From there… I don't know. Away." He shot me a look, that strange gleam in his eye again, before turning back to packing. "Maybe I'll find Belcampagnia."

I snorted. "You'll have to let me know when you do."

His eyes snapped to mine. "What do you know about Belcampagnia?" he asked sharply.

"Besides what little there was in the diary? Nothing. Why do you think I was looking so hard for it?"

The pity was back, stronger this time. _He knows something_, I realized. My eyes narrowed. "Why?"

He sighed. "Moira, you won't— Chuck, you won't hurt him? Will you?"

"Of course I won't. I've told you before: I want him to be happy. And I won't ever tell him about any of this."

He held my gaze for a long moment, searching for any hint of insincerity, then leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. "Goodbye, Elise. Don't— don't go to court next week."

I turned and left, puzzling over his words until I fell asleep shortly before dawn.

* * *

><p><strong>The big reveal! Ish...<strong>

**This does mark the end of my chapter buffer, but we're getting close(r) to the end. Hopefully it'll just sort of...roll on out in the future (though I wouldn't count on much happening during NaNoWriMo). **

**A big thanks to Captain Fantastic for a Skype editing session and Lady Arnirien for an impromptu beta/talking me down over Skype.**

**Reviews are sustenance!**

**~Mazzie**


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